Chains
by Joule Sweet
Summary: Shusei/Hotsuma, Hotsuma/Shusei. Their relationship moves to the next inevitable stage. No one said it would be easy.
1. Wrap Me Up

**Disclaimer: **Not written for profit. Characters not mine.

* * *

**Chains**

**[]  
**

He wasn't surprised to see his partner's prone body spread across the top of _his_ mattress. That usually happened when Shusei was running late for whatever reason and got home after Hotsuma. The blonde must have been there for some time because he looked peaceful, like he had fallen into a deep, restful slumber that faded the aches and worries of the day.

Shusei walked quietly to the window so as not to disturb the dreamer. He drew the curtains closed to block out the dying light of the sun, the thick fabric bringing the room to darkness. He had planned to switch on the bedside lamp but found he rather liked the dark. He wasn't sure what was going on inside of him, but he could feel emotions swirling around like a hurricane. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw Hotsuma shifting on top of the mattress, his lean body curling as he drew in tight, falling deeper.

For the first time in a long while, Shusei felt hungry.

Even with the severe lack of illumination, Shusei could see the bright colors that seemed to emanate from his partner's fiery aura. There were oranges, reds, and brilliant yellows that dazzled his eyes and left him breathless. It wasn't often that he could say he was enthralled, but certainly that was the feeling that captured him then. Hotsuma was just amazing.

_But I've always known that._

Something was probably wrong with him. He needed to eat actual food, not just nibble at the occasional snack just to keep enough energy in his body to live. That would have explained the rush of light-headedness that nearly brought him to his knees. He remembered Takashiro's somewhat concerned expression as he addressed him at the station. _"Shusei, have you been eating at all? You really don't look well."_

He _was_ hungry. Just not for food.

He tried to shake it off by bringing himself back to reality. He was home, and Hotsuma had invaded his space as usual. It was time to either tease the other boy in his unconscious state or shake him awake and demand his movement. That was the usual protocol. He knew that Hotsuma was fine with their complacency.

Shusei wasn't, at least not then. His logical thought process once again pointed the blame at his fatigue. He had probably over-extended himself. _I shouldn't have spent so much time at the station, looking through those files. I feel like it really took everything out of me._

He wanted to sleep, but the body taking up the majority of his mattress was preventing that most thoroughly. Deciding on a whim that his obstinate partner deserved what was coming to him, Shusei dropped all pretense and fell into bed, wrapping himself around his friend's body like he was hugging a large pillow. The satisfaction that began to ooze from every inch of his being was a foreign terror, an exhilarating rush of relief and happiness that could not have stemmed from anything other than the close contact between himself and Hotsuma. He was warm, so warm, bringing that heat to every part of Shusei that was freezing cold.

_My heart..._

"Mmm. Zu-- wha-- Sh--Shuu--" Hotsuma was dragged out of his slumber abruptly, but he didn't understand what had caused it at first. Nonsensical noises came out of his mouth as he struggled against the arms enfolding him, not yet realizing that it was already hopeless.

_I'll never let go of you now_.

Once he was fully awake, Hotsuma's endeavors to get away became powerful. He bristled with anger once he realized who had trapped him. "Shusei! What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Hmm? Oh. It's just you, Hotsuma. I thought someone had dropped a toy on my bed for me to snuggle with." In opposition to his teasing words, Shusei tightened his hold, finding it easy to keep the other boy close. For all his thrashing, Hotsuma was too scattered to make an effective escape attempt.

"Bastard. What have you been smoking?" Finding that his partner was not going to let go, he went limp for several moments before attacking his partner's arms, trying to pry them away. "Would ya let go already?"

Shusei drew his mouth closer to Hotsuma's ear, resisting the urge to reach out and lock onto it with his teeth. Hotsuma never removed his earrings, not even to go to bed. It was sort of a cute quirk. "You wanted to sleep here, didn't you?" His voice was a hot whisper directly against his partner's earlobe. "Go back to sleep, then."

"How am I supposed to do that with you--!" Shusei had again gripped harder and succeeded in cutting Hotsuma's protests off with a gasp. "Shu--" Hotsuma's stomach was hard and flat under Shusei's hands, moving abruptly with each forceful inhalation and exhalation of air. Shusei decided to give him a break, moving one of his arms so that his hand could reach Hotsuma's face. He began to trace the angry, scowling lines, fingers glancing over the sharp angles and contours that defined his distinctive features.

"Shh," Shusei murmured, realizing that he might have actually lost his mind somewhere throughout the process of physically tormenting his friend. It was a shame that his hands were already operating independently. Letting go of Hotsuma seemed like the worst possible thing to do. He was instantly addicted to the hot radiance of his skin, the solid muscles encased in that soft tissue, the combination of textures too tempting to refrain from touching. But he didn't have any such excuse for the words that came out of his mouth. He was driven solely by the desire to dominate his domineering partner.

"We've been closer than this in the past," Shusei said in response to Hotsuma's awkward fidgeting. His hand had covered Shusei's, stopping the movement across his face. It was too late. He had already felt the hot blush that had entered his partner's cheeks.

"Liar. We used to hug each other, but you never touched--" Hotsuma was having a hell of a time finishing his sentences. Shusei's free hand had slipped lower than his stomach, trailing a line of pleasure down the length of his hip, to his outer thigh. His eyes widened. "Where the hell _are_ you touching?"

Shusei spoke lines out of a romance novel, although he had never read one in his life. Maybe he felt inspired from Toko's fanciful talk of how amazing Luka's devotion to Yuki was, how incredibly romantic it was to love another through any hardship, including a change of gender. He had never thought of loving Hotsuma as anything weird even though they were both male. Gender was nothing in the face of such sweeping, timeless emotion.

_That's right. I've loved you since we met._

"I'm touching you, Hotsuma, everywhere I can. I want to feel every inch of you. As close as--" He seized the moment and leaned in, latching onto the tip of Hotsuma's ear with his teeth. His partner stiffened to the point of rigor mortis, probably entering a shocked state. Shusei didn't care. If it was truly a horrible thing, Hotsuma would have punched his lights out already.

He was actually satisfied with what he had done so far, although he had yet to get under Hotsuma's clothes or even kiss him. The proximity was the best feeling he could have imagined, each point of contact between them a shot of ecstasy. Although it might have been amusing to go even further, to see Hotsuma completely helpless with his ministrations, he thought he might already be spent. He could feel his grip weakening.

He was tired.

"Shu-- Shusei?" Hotsuma's voice was full of concern, amazing-- that much emotion despite the torture Shusei had tried to inflict on him. He felt a little guilty, logic returning to bring a flush of shame and regret. _Pathetic. What the hell did you just do to your childhood friend? What is wrong with you?_

With the grip slackened, Hotsuma was able to maneuver away, but he stayed close, turning instead to face his partner. Even in the dark, Shusei was able to see the shading in Hotsuma's cheeks, the mess of his hair around his head. They might as well have been rolling around in the sheets for how mussed Hotsuma appeared. He reached out, holding a hand to Shusei's forehead with a crease in his brow. "You're feverish."

Shusei took Hotsuma's hand in his own, bringing it to his lips and closing his eyes as he pressed a kiss against his warm palm. "That's just because of you. Your heat. I'm fine."

Hotsuma jerked his hand back and pulled away, breaking the comforting contact and leaving Shusei to freeze for several uncomfortable moments. "Yeah, right. You haven't been eating well. You've barely been sleeping for the past week, always at the police station with that asshole Takashiro. You're probably deathly ill by now."

"Doesn't matter," Shusei said in a low voice, closing his eyes, surrendering to his drowsiness. "This is all just a dream."

"Bastard. Don't do all that weird shit and then just sleep when you want to."

The fact that Hotsuma was pouting like a kid brought a smile to Shusei's lips. He grabbed the opening and spoke with a wide grin, "Oh? Are you mad that I stopped where I did? Wanted more?"

"Pfft. Yeah, right, like I would," Hotsuma blustered. When Shusei opened an eye to look at him, he saw that his head was bowed, tormented profile in view. He was sitting up, leaning back on his arms. Shusei wished to bring him near again, but he was too tired to do anything but keep his eyes open. Soon even that would be too much. Sleep was a formidable enemy.

"You liked doing that stuff, huh? I mean, are you drunk off your ass or something? Got me confused with one of your past chicks?" Hotsuma asked, raising his head and staring ahead at the far wall. There was probably nothing there. Yet, he was still close, still on the bed. He hadn't pulled that far.

Shusei's smiled faded, replaced with a calm line. "I would never mistake you for anyone else. Maybe I've lost it. I just wanted to be warm."

"I told you, you're burning up." Hotsuma looked at him, eyes flickering before coming up with a hint of resolve. He brought his body close, laying back and reaching out to lift Shusei up slightly. He maneuvered so that Shusei was on top of his chest as he rested on his back on top of the mattress. He twined his fingers in Shusei's hair. "Just lay there and be good, ok? I'll keep you warm tonight."

Shusei heard the steady beating of Hotsuma's heart beneath his cheek, the reassuring beat reinforcing his weariness. He lifted his right arm to rest across Hotsuma's body, hoping that the weak gesture would prevent Hotsuma from changing his mind and leaving. He didn't think he could do without that fire.

_Burning up? I feel like I've frozen._

"I'm dragging your ass to have the doctor look at you tomorrow. No excuses." Hotsuma's voice was a deep rumble in his throat. Shusei smiled, knowing that arguing was useless. After a good night's rest, he would hopefully manage get up before his partner and escape the examination. Then they could just forget about it.

So close to Hotsuma, he was sure that he was healed already.

His hand, still operating with a mind of its own (_he told himself this_), began to inch the material of Hotsuma's shirt up, revealing the smooth skin of his abdomen. He touched that delicate silk until Hotsuma's hand covered his, stopping the exploration cold by moving it away.

"What the hell did I just say about laying there and being good?"

"Something important, I'm sure." Shusei said, smiling against his partner's chest. His eyes could no longer be dragged open, so he was sure he was going to drift into sleep soon enough, much to Hotsuma's relief.

"Yeah. So do it, already." Hotsuma exhaled deeply, sounding annoyed. "Crap, I've gotta go to the bathroom. Get up for a sec, will ya?"

Shusei's heart dipped in his chest, dreading the separation from Hotsuma's comforting glow. He moved, having no retort, no reason not to acquiesce. Resting against the pillow, it was cold and concrete compared to Hotsuma's gentle strength. He closed his eyes, listening to Hotsuma's movements beyond the door, catching only pieces. Water running, drawers slamming.

_I'm going to remember this in the morning and wonder what the hell I was doing._

Despite the taunting of his inner voice, another part of him, deeper and primal, awash in the endless desire he felt to completely consume Hotsuma, wanted more. Wanted to go into the washroom and throw Hotsuma against the wall, draw pleasure from every inch of his body until he cried and trembled into a mess, _his_.

Maybe later.

Shusei dozed. The next time he came back to reality from the dream walk was when Hotsuma climbed back into his bed, lifting the sheets bunched at the bottom and pulling them up and over them. He grasped Shusei close again, resumed their earlier position. "I'll stay tonight if you really want." His fingers laced through Shusei's locks.

Shusei smiled, fighting the sleep that tried to claim victory over him, at least for a few more minutes. "For how long?"

"Idiot. As long as it takes."

Shusei pulled Hotsuma's hand into his own, intertwining their fingers and resting their joined hands on the mattress at Hotsuma's side. There would always be another time. Maybe he was sick, after all. The doctor might not be a bad idea, not if being completely well meant more time with Hotsuma. "I'll be good."

"Pfft. Liar."

For the first time, Shusei slept peacefully, without any of the uneasiness that sometimes came when he was apart for Hotsuma. The feel of Hotsuma so close to him soothed his subconscious worries and brought sweet dreams. The truth was, he wouldn't need to visit the doctor in the morning. He would awaken to a bright new day and, with a broad smile, place a tender kiss on the lips of his partner. The sight of his partner's flustered face and flailing limbs would be all the medicine, all the sustenance needed to cure any ills.

_I'll wrap these chains a little tighter._


	2. Tighter, Until I

**Notes: **I'll admit with this chapter I have no idea where this is going now. Um. I meant for it to be happy? Well, maybe next chapter.

* * *

**Chains**

**2**

He thought his best friend was very pretty. It wasn't a normal thought to have about one's partner, given the fact that they had known each other nearly since birth. Also, Shusei was male, and boys weren't supposed to be pretty. But chestnut hair in wisps, delicate skin milky white in color, and strangely cool brown eyes came together in a striking portrait of beauty. No one would have argued that.

He used to feel ugly, large, clumsy in light of his friend's appearance, but somewhere along the way that had changed. Pride swelled within him when he was at Shusei's side, the urge to touch, smile, stay close. Shusei was ice on burning skin, a slow breeze in summer swelter. _This is my best friend, my Shusei. I'm the only one he-- the only one--_

Hotsuma was sitting in class, wishing he could be back home in bed. Waking up had been an empty experience, Shusei having detangled himself from the web of Hotsuma's arms and leaving for school without him, without eating. He no longer brought food to try and get him to eat. It was hopeless.

Anger began to lick his edges, simultaneously pissing him off and exciting him. In its bored state, his mind had decided to wander to places best left untread in a public setting. Shusei's cool hands trailing all over his skin, bringing relief from his inner pyre and drawing a different kind of torch into his nerves. Words strangely entrancing, hypnotic spell. "_I'm touching you, Hotsuma. Everywhere I can._

_This is all just a dream."_

He had to wonder if it had been. There was nagging doubt; his memory might have been playing a cruel joke. He _had_ woken up in Shusei's bed, but it wouldn't be the first time he had fallen asleep there. Shusei sometimes allowed him to stay, switching beds for the night. His neatly made bed, hospital corners, didn't mean anything. Shusei was orderly and would have arranged everything before leaving.

He cursed Shusei, even the Shusei of his dreams, for awakening that agony. Being apart, having to face that physical distance, was torment. Demons dancing in the depths of his heart, fire in his blood, crystal in his throat.

What the _hell_ was the teacher calling on him for? He glowered, standing with all the purpose of a gangster who had just been flipped off, drawing a dangerous aura. He could see the widening eyes of several of his frilly female classmates as they turned to look at him. The teacher didn't look as confident upon seeing his menacing posture but didn't back down, either.

He didn't know what the hell he was supposed to be reading. He kept the challenge in his gaze at the teacher, daring him to make another move.

"Renjou-kun, it's page 37. Here..." To his side, Yoshino's whisper could be clearly heard by anyone who cared to listen. The silence that had fallen could have made a pin drop sound like a crash of thunder. He turned to see the girl was holding her book to him, cheeks pink, flustered. He didn't even care about obeying the teacher, but he appreciated her efforts to help.

Taking the book, he read from the top of the page with a generous amount of annoyance coating his voice thick. He might have been reading his list of enemies and talking about the various ways he would make them die. When the page was finished, the teacher abruptly cut him off by calling on the next victim.

Sitting, Hotsuma returned the book to Yoshino, nodding his thanks. She looked pleased and blushed deeper, burying her face in the pages with a relieved smile. He could understand her feelings. The ghost of Shusei's fingers gliding over his skin was enough to bring blood racing to his cheeks and other places. It was _hot_ today, wasn't it?

He managed to sleep without closing his eyes for the remainder of the class period. The teacher had learned his lesson and refrained from calling attention to the fact that his mind was elsewhere. Hotsuma didn't know why the man cared, anyway. If he wanted to waste his education, it was his prerogative. No one could make him learn.

Shusei would have been quietly disapproving, but that was okay. He rather liked to see that discontent on his partner's sometimes too empty face.

"Are you okay?" Yoshino had stayed seated even with the bell, looking over at him with soft concern. Her fingers worried at the edge of her book bag, giving her away. He saw much of himself in her awkward affections for him. It almost made him regret not returning an ounce of her feelings. That was hopeless as well. He was already lost inside the labyrinth.

"Yeah, fine. Thanks," Hotsuma returned, standing and swinging his bag over his shoulder. He exited the room without looking back, glossing over the fact that he might have hurt her feelings with his quick brush off. It wasn't his intention, but if it would help her get over her fruitless crush, all the better.

She deserved more than that.

He didn't know if he should just leave or not. Rationally, it was only two more hours until the day was over. That was manageable. The urge to just go home and throw himself on top of Shusei's bed, breathe the scents that would remind him of the distant dream was tempting. He probably would have acted on his desires if he had not run into Yuki in the hallway. He would have to thank him later.

"Hotsuma-kun, how's your day?" Yuki asked with a cheerful smile, oblivious to the stares of a gang of his admirers that were shadowing his steps. One of them had been slyly maneuvering to the front of the pack, preparing to engage him in conversation before he opened up to Hotsuma.

_Foiled again_, Hotsuma told them with a quick smirk, shrugging in response to Yuki's question. "Whatever. Same as usual."

The shorter boy teetered on his feet, a wave of unease clouding the sun of his smile for a moment. "Is that so? You seemed to leave really quickly this morning."

He didn't bother thinking up an excuse. "I suppose I did."

"Is something wrong? With Shusei-kun?"

Perceptive sometimes. Brat. Hotsuma's spines prickled, and he glared at Yuki even though he knew the boy was not at fault. "No. Can you stop prying like some old gossipy hag now?"

Yuki didn't cower or fold like Hotsuma had expected him to. He was thankfully used to the sting of his bite and actually brightened his smile. "Sorry, Hotsuma-kun. Don't worry, things will work themselves out."

"Haa?" Hotsuma's face became a blank confusion as Yuki gave him a knowing wink before turning and walking past the throng of his fans. They latched onto him like a pack of leeches, but they would never be able to completely consume him. One look from Luka would affect him more deeply than a million of their kisses.

The thought made Hotsuma chuckle quietly. How would _that_ brooding idiot feel if he knew that he had already been beaten by _Shusei_ in terms of putting the moves on someone?

"Something funny?"

The proximity of the whisper by his ear brought an angry red to Hotsuma's cheeks, and he flashed an indignant glare at the one who stole centerstage of his thoughts. "Not really," he threw back, keeping things mellow. He wouldn't be shaken. The butterflies born from Shusei's illusive smile wouldn't stir the contents of his stomach into a frenzy. He could be stone.

"Ah, I see." Shusei brushed past him, the shuffle of the cloth of his jacket against Hotsuma's a grating sound. Hotsuma looked at his back and silently cursed. No. No, he couldn't.

"Shu- Shusei!" He didn't want to call out. He didn't want to feel that if Shusei wasn't looking at him, something was fundamentally wrong with his existence. He didn't want to close the last door. "Wait."

His partner stopped, turned halfway. "Is it important? We'll be late for cl--"

Hotsuma gripped him by the fabric of his jacket, each side of his collar in a powerful hold. Dragging him to the nearest escape, he cursed his bad luck that the door led into an occupied classroom. Staring into Shusei's surprised eyes, he exhaled noisily. "We need to be alone. Where?"

Shusei's hands covered his, prying them loose from his jacket. "It can't wait until we get--?"

"No."

Shusei seemed to accept the determination of his partner, nodding slowly. "I can get into the conference room upstairs."

"That works."

Hotsuma followed Shusei closely as they worked their way up the stairs, through the thinning crowd of students in the hallway that rushed to class to avoid being late. He took a little time to reflect on his selfishness, the fact that he was causing model student Shusei to be tardy. One day shouldn't matter too much, right?

When the door of the conference room shut behind them, Shusei flicked the light switch on, bringing fluorescence upon them. It felt too bright, artificial, and Hotsuma brought the switch down again, twisting the lock on the door before turning to face his partner. The only source of illumination was the sunlight filtering through drawn windows, keeping them shadowed. It helped.

"What was so important it couldn't wait for a few hours?" Shusei asked. He didn't sound angry or even curious to hear the answer. His face was a clean slate, artificial beauty etched in the delicate lines. Regret flowed in an endless river.

_I wanted to see you. What you looked like... to see your face when you were touching me!_

Stalking forward, he captured Shusei again, hands twisting in the soft materials of his clothes. Heat passed through their locked gazes, a scalding wave that oddly sent shivers down his spine. What _was_ he doing? What did he want from Shusei? From himself? He wanted the comfort back, didn't he? The times when they would be together and feel like all the pieces of the puzzle were connected. The uneasiness, the longing and loss, he wanted to throw it all away.

"Why did you do it?" Shusei's expression was blank even in light of his partner's inferno. It raged hotter in the face of that indifference. He had roused desire from its peaceful slumber and now he could just return back to normal without any problems? How was that fair?

"Do what, Hotsuma?"

"Last night! You had your hands all over...You got me all started, touched me, woke me the hell up and now just decide to pretend nothing happened? What the hell kind of sick game is that?"

Realization dawned, Shusei's brown depths warming as he took in Hotsuma's unrestrained fury. His left arm lifted, fingers unfurling and coming to rest on the side of his partner's face. Drawing down gently, a tingle of nerves, he spoke quietly. "Who's pretending nothing happened, Hotsuma? Did you want me to grab you in the hallway and throw you against a wall? There's a time and a place--"

"You could have been there this morning," Hotsuma protested, brows drawing downward as he pondered the nonsensical words spilling out. Wait, when had he turned into the jealous, needy female in this relationship? That was lame, he had to stop that bullshit before it became a habit. He blew a sigh past his lips. "Y'know, forget it. It doesn't matter."

Shusei's other hand had fallen against his other cheek, cupping his face between his palms now. "That's okay. It's cute to see you upset like this."

"What's so cute about it?" Hotsuma sneered, his face dangerously close to his partner's. His was making an attempt to tower over the other, but their similar heights were making that endeavor impossible. He waited for an answer.

Shusei must have figured it was a rhetorical question, the lay of his lips still cloaked with deceit, a soft, barely upturned line. It began to hurt, looking at that ghost of a smile. Hotsuma had always been impulsive, so it didn't take much for him to place his own lips upon it.

They had gone further last night, intimate touches in more private places. Yet nothing had burned him quite like the sweet pain of the contact of their lips. Shusei's hands fell away from his face, dangling at his side like useless strings. Hotsuma was doing the holding, the clinging, drawing Shusei up by his clothes so that he could press tighter. Shusei's lips were soft, sweet, everything that he knew they would be.

His heart was racing like lightning across the heavens, the uncertainty of his actions causing arctic fear to dull his heat. He had never kissed anyone before. It probably sucked, Shusei wondering when the hell it would be over. Even when he forgot to breathe through his nose and was beginning to suffocate, he didn't want to pull away.

"Hotsuma." Shusei whispered the words against his lips, pulling back slightly to part them just enough for speech to become possible. "You're turning purple."

With the ability to breathe restored, Hotsuma panted, oxygen deprived lungs sucking air gratefully in. Shusei's eyes were wide open, probably had been the entire time, but he wouldn't know with his eyes screwed shut for the duration of the kiss. The purple in his face faded to a dull pink, anxiety replacing the thrill of his terror. _Now what?_

It finally looked real, Shusei's smile. Hotsuma felt relieved, loosening the hold on Shusei's clothing and stepping back. "I'm sorry," he said at last. "I made you late for class."

Shusei didn't look upset, eyes crinkling in a way that made even his cold beauty seem adorable for a moment. Hotsuma pondered the changes that were taking place, the evolution of their partnership from childhood friends, brothers, to... what? Lovers? He couldn't say he was opposed to the prospect. Well, okay, it was weird to be perfectly honest. He definitely felt the stereotypical butterflies, the bittersweet longing, the fragile uncertainties. It was a new stage, after all.

He tumbled through the whitewater of his thoughts for a few seconds, trying to make it make sense. _I care for Shusei more than I would, hell, could ever care for anyone else. I know that. Sometimes I think even if we hadn't been chosen to be partners, I would have found him somehow. That connection, nothing can break it. I know all of that._

On his hands and knees he would crawl.

Shusei wasn't troubled, or if he was, he was hiding. But it was easy to be deceived by attraction, of course, that was why Opasts always chose such exquisite human forms. He had just kissed the lips of a thousand dreams, fed on the longing of a dozen faceless girls. _He's mine, isn't he? He's really all..._

When it looked like Shusei was ready to leave, Hotsuma stumbled forward, wrapping his arms around him in a clumsy embrace. "Can we just stay like this for awhile?"

Shusei returned the hold carefully, his head resting on Hotsuma's shoulder, face hidden from his gaze. "Of course."

Hotsuma's desire had never really faded. It flared to life again with Shusei close by, his musky scent filling his nose, the cold of his skin causing tremors. Hotsuma moved just enough so that his arm could fill the space between them. "Your scars, let me see."

"It's dark," Shusei murmured, shadows flickering over his face, sadness.

"It's light enough," Hotsuma said, pushing the front of Shusei's jacket back, fingers working quickly over the top buttons of his dress shirt. He pried it open to expose Shusei's pale skin. He trembled as he ran his fingertips over the rough edges of skin that his fire had created. He had marred that perfection, left his mark.

Disgusting, but it satisfied him now in a way nothing else could. Not kisses, not caresses. _Mine, see? I'm right here on your body, always. You're mine._

"What are you trying to see?" Shusei said, and Hotsuma detected a shakiness in his voice. Looking at Shusei, he was stone-faced, smile gone. It brought the beginnings of anger. For him, it was impossible to hide his emotions, but for Shusei it was like flicking a switch. On/off. Happy/blank. The hell with class, they were already beyond late.

Hotsuma moved his hands from Shusei's chest, taking the brief moment of separation to gather his strength. He pushed his partner onto the floor, relishing the surprised look on Shusei's face with his action, spurring him to larger things. He kissed him again, more forceful, not yet comfortable to open his mouth but content to work his lips in a frenzy, coloring Shusei's pale lips cherry red and swollen. Once he'd had enough of that (_but I'll never have enough of that_), he moved his mouth lower, ghosting over the long line of Shusei's neck to the newly uncovered skin.

His tongue flicked out to trace the ridges of his scars, warm saliva leaving a glistening trail on Shusei's skin. It didn't really taste like anything to be honest, but Hotsuma felt like honey had been dripped into the inside of his mouth. God, what would it be like to have the rest of him? His mind felt overloaded from the mere concept of it.

His fingers seared trails of flame across Shusei's shoulders, sliding up his neck to twist in the soft strands of his hair. He moved to the other side, lips pressing tenderly on the second set of scars. They were beautiful, not just because he had made that permanent impression on his partner's body, but because they were all part of Shusei.

_It blinds me sometimes._

He realized he had been lost in a drunken fervor without really noticing Shusei's part in any of it. He pulled himself up quickly, looking at Shusei's face with searching eyes.

His heart stopped beating for several agonizing seconds.

Shusei's eyes were closed, but his face was blank, still blank.

_W-what? But when you-- when it was you who touched me, I couldn't hide my joy, my arousal, my anger. How can you? Don't you feel anything?_

With the assault concluded, Shusei's eyes flicked open, catching his for an instant before moving to the opposite wall as he sat up. There was nothing to be said, watching as the shirt was buttoned closed, the jacket rearranged on his shoulders, the friction of cloth as Shusei stood. But for the slight muss of his hair, no indication of anything.

Hotsuma remained on the ground in a half-shocked state, not sure what pain to focus on first. Rejection, or was it all his fault? Had he done something terrible, something irreversible?

Fingers twined in his hair, a gentle weight on his scalp. "You should get to class, too." Shusei's hand left him as he walked towards the exit of the room. "Don't forget to lock the door behind you."

He would never be able to sit silently in class, like normal, not with the way things were.

_Just let me be here for awhile longer._

It was too late, he knew that. Whatever had started was going to continue until it either destroyed what they'd had or brought about the start of something brighter, stronger, greater.

He prayed for the latter, believed it. They were too strong.

_I'll never break these chains._


	3. Can Never Leave::

**Notes: **Sorry for the sap. And angst. And angsty sap. I also realized the majority of this fic took place in the mansion and has a lot of bathing. ^^; Must adopt new settings. Anyway, this story doesn't feel like it's over yet, maybe a new arc will come to me. Or I may start something new. I am not done with this fandom. :D Either way, thanks for the positive feedback. I appreciate everyone for reading.

**Chains**

**3**_  
_

The next time they met was an awkward dance, neither one wanting to admit what they had been through, unable to vocalize anything that was slowly building. It was dark, and Shusei had taken his bath, solitary, was finishing his homework at his desk, solitary, when Hotsuma came into the room.

The peaceful atmosphere choked and died. Hotsuma carried a looming burden with him, lighting the quiet into a merciless blaze. Hot and uncomfortable feelings churned through Shusei as he kept his back carefully turned.

"Shusei."

Hearing his name with that voice was the sweetest sound, pure sugar poured into his blood, energizing every nerve ending, pulsing with life. He kept himself still, unaffected, frozen. He didn't know what the right reaction would be, so he gave none. "Hn?"

The air smothered with the unsaid. "...I'm going to take a bath."

The door clicked shut behind Hotsuma, and Shusei shoved any thoughts about _earlier at school _from his mind before returning to his work. Even when the words of his textbook changed to nonsense, even when he felt all joy leave him, dead weight taking its place and crushing him into nothing, he pretended everything was fine.

He slipped the impassive mask over his face and continued the lie.

* * *

Hotsuma dried his hair, toweling the strands and squeezing at the excess water, watching the towel become wet and dark. He had stayed in the bath so long, his skin began to wrinkle. He'd nearly destroyed his mind as he struggled to think of what to do and say in the presence of his partner. Running away was no option.

Besides, that was the weak thing to do, and Hotsuma was no coward.

He was sad and angry at the same time, sad to see Shusei acting the part of a stone-faced doll and pissed as hell at him for it. The expression on his partner's face was the same as before- the same blank as before, and it was beginning to cause an inflamed knot of resentment in his center.

He never wanted to feel that way about Shusei. He was the only one he could depend on, his only friend, the shadow he always believed would be there through all shades of dark and light. Every second of his life, he was playing their memories over and over in his head, the simple knowledge that Shusei was a part of him providing the only comfort he ever knew.

After changing into his night clothes, he forced his legs forward, pace steady towards their room. Opening the door, he was mildly surprised to see the room darkened, the only sliver of light coming from the lamp on Shusei's nightstand. The older boy was in bed under the sheets, slight rise and fall of his chest steady and constant. Sleeping.

_Not tonight, I see._

Swallowing the bitter taste of disappointment, Hotsuma slipped under the covers and into restlessness.

* * *

Avoiding each other proved to be a simple task, in the morning (Shusei left early) and at school (Hotsuma skipped his classes and spent the entire day on the roof catching up on his missed sleep), but the chasm that yawned between them was becoming an impossible distraction. Shusei spent his day trying to figure out how to mend things, bring them back to what they were before he started the madness. It wouldn't be easy.

It was unusual to go a day without seeing Hotsuma even once, and Shusei felt cold and cheap as he returned to the Twilight Mansion after school, going up to his room without exchanging pleasantries with the others, skipping dinner when they called. He finished his homework easily, getting ready for his bath when the clock struck seven thirty. Still no sign of Hotsuma.

"Can I join you?"

Tsukumo was adorable, eyes wide and childlike before settling into a gentle gaze, lips shifting into an endearing smile. Shusei felt his worries fading as he looked at the boy's serene expression, following him to calm. He eased into the warm bath. "Of course."

The younger boy brought a bar of chocolate with him as he sank into the water, chewing slowly as the rest of it melted onto his fingers. He said nothing. Shusei closed his eyes and let the radiating warmth sooth his frazzled nerves, trying to forget. It was becoming impossible.

The ghost of a voice, whispered between the heavy kisses.

_"The proof that you're mine."_

He had known for quite some time that he was captured, that Hotsuma had managed to grasp that elusive part of him that he had once doubted existed at all. When he reached the age where girls began to look at him, some becoming so bold to even ask for his affection in return, he couldn't answer. When he should have been considering what he was actually looking for in a potential mate, his only thoughts were fire and tears. _The reason I live._

"...Hotsuma is?"

Shusei snapped to attention, shot Tsukumo a questioning look. "What?"

"Hotsuma seems to be running late again. I was wondering if you knew where he was," Tsukumo said conversationally. He didn't appear worried, so Shusei was easily able to repress his own concerns. Hotsuma sometimes preferred to be alone, so he could have been anywhere.

_Or maybe you just made him feel like he was completely unwanted. Maybe this doesn't feel like home anymore._

He didn't need his inner voice to make him feel guilty. He had already battered himself bruised for his hasty exit, leaving Hotsuma to think his advances had been unwelcome. Shusei grew hot just thinking about how it had burned in all the right places, the careful attention to his scars in particular spreading a healing salve on his deepest wounds. He'd had to stop it.

He'd had to stop it before he was completely exposed. _Can't let you see._

"I don't know, but If he's not here by bedtime, I'd start worrying then," Shusei replied, choosing his words carefully. If he sounded too apathetic, Tsukumo would know something was wrong, if he didn't already. The boy's gifts were numerous, and Shusei could sometimes believe that he was hearing the things that _weren't_ said.

Tsukumo tilted his head, nodded slowly. "I'm sure he'll be back by then. Unless maybe he has a date. But you would know that, right?"

Shusei's dry smile cracked his face. "He has no date."

Tsukumo nodded again, looking like the cogs of his understanding had clicked into place. His skin was pure and white, gleaming with sweat and steam. Shusei thought that he was fascinating, a strange mix of innocence and guile he was able to select at will to best fit the situation. It was easy to believe he could be trusted with deep confessions, and that was precisely why Shusei told him nothing.

He didn't deserve to share his burden, anyway. It belonged inside, placed with the others in haphazard piles, forming the pit that never really left his stomach.

_Yet for that brief moment, Hotsuma transformed it to butterflies, and they fluttered like petals before melting into the sweetest serenity._

Could he ever feel alive again without that fire?

"Shusei?"

Shusei hadn't noticed the boy coming closer, moving through the water to sit next to him. He was used to Tsukumo's proximity, fixing him with a raised eyebrow. "What is it?"

"You didn't eat again." Tsukumo's face was constricted with worry, looking at Shusei with knowing eyes. "You haven't been eating much at dinner for awhile now."

Although he appreciated Tsukumo's concern, there wasn't much effort he could spend placating him. "I ate a big lunch at school," he said with a smile, unable to resist bringing his hand to the boy's face and stroking it down his cheek as he had done in the past, raising pink in his wake. The touch distracted as planned.

"I have more candies," Tsukumo said with a nervous downturn of his eyes, delicate lashes fluttering closed. Shusei didn't care to correct the other boy's misconception that he liked sweets. He preferred the acrid taste of ash and smoke. That was enough.

The hand slipped away from Tsukumo as he stood, drawing the towel around himself and heading for the antechamber. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Whenever you need them..." Tsukumo called after him, soft voice receding.

Shusei felt the weight of time on his shoulders, pressing him down. It was a few minutes after eight o' clock, and if the past was any indication, it might be ten before Hotsuma returned to collapse into bed. If he wanted to get things straightened out between them, it would have to be soon. _Like now._

The night air was chilly, so Shusei brought a thin jacket to wear over his simple t-shirt before heading out the door. He lost the strength to walk the endless journey to find his partner, instead sitting on the concrete steps and pulling out his cellular phone. Easy way out. He flicked through his address book until he reached Hotsuma's name. They had finally exchanged numbers after a long period of Hotsuma complaining that _everyone else _ had Shusei's number.

He composed a simple text, hit _send_, and placed the phone on the ground beside him. He reached up to his jacket and pulled it tighter, relishing the barrier that kept the cold at bay. He didn't have to wait long for his phone to vibrate. Looking down, he saw the notification of a text message returned from Hotsuma.

Shusei brought the phone from its locked state, opening the message and reading its contents. He smiled, taking in the typed words from his partner and letting the glow wash over him. It wasn't that cold outside.

_-Waiting for you.._

_-Coming home now._

Shusei was like a schoolgirl waiting with bated breath for her first crush to appear at the front gates, eyes thirsty to take him in and feel that excited rush of awe and adoration. Life without Hotsuma was always so dark and uninteresting. The same weathered faces, boring platitudes spilling from hardened lips... it wasn't life at all. Mere existence.

_Only with him is it more than that. Without, only darkness. _

He had never been so happy to see his partner's crown of blond locks catching the hazy illumination of the street lamps. They lined the walkway up to the Twilight Mansion, casting an ethereal path before the trudging boy. His face was twisted in an unreadable expression, book bag casually slung over his left shoulder. His eyes lifted, met Shusei's. "Hey."

Shusei kept his mask in place, unaware of the damage. "Hey."

"Your message said you were waiting for me. What for?" Hotsuma asked simply, the lines carefully drawn. He was standing at least ten paces away, details of his face hidden by shadows. Shusei imagined there was a thin thread between them, pulled tight. If he stepped back now, wouldn't it snap and leave them back at the beginning?

_This is the child you bore._

He wouldn't move forward, couldn't. He let his words fill the gap, hoped they would be enough. "I'm always waiting for you. When you're not here, I-"

Hotsuma picked up on the empty space left by his unfinished thought as Shusei stalled, going nowhere. "Then don't leave me, Shusei."

Shusei's hollow smile collapsed and fell into the floor, shattering like fragile glass. He looked at Hotsuma with the ache of a thousand wounds in the lay of his lips. Understanding passed over his face, and Hotsuma closed the distance, taking long steps forward until he was close enough to reach out. The hand that was free came to rest on his shoulder, clasping. "I'll never leave you, either. Okay?"

He saw Hotsuma's tension, uncertainty and fear. Guilt crashed into him with the knowledge that he had caused it. Despite the strength of Hotsuma's words, he wondered where they stood.

In his dreams it was perfect, worries fading like phantoms in the light of day. The moment he revealed his true emotions, time paused like the world had inhaled, holding its breath. But he was never afraid because he could see the truth in his partner's eyes, the certainty that his feelings were returned. Only in dreams.

He wrapped the dark around himself, protective cloak against the harsh reality where nothing was certain. _This is my punishment_. "Okay."

The awkward moment fell upon them, unable to be chased away completely by the night's wind. Hotsuma's eyes were flashing like brilliant gemstones, his face a gorgeous treasure. Shusei loved his strong lines, distinctive brows, the palette of emotions he always found impossible to conceal. It was a pathetic moment of weakness, he told himself. _I just want him._

_Want to be burned._

Shusei leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his partner's lips. He was not as gentle as Hotsuma had been. He pried Hotsuma's lips open with his tongue and dove inside, exploring. He heard Hotsuma's bag crash to the floor. Shusei gripped a bouquet of fiery strands and pressed the back of his head closer, increasing the urgency of his mouth. Devouring.

Hotsuma recovered from his surprise quickly, matching Shusei's fervor, a delirious waltz, dizzying spin into the depths of their desire. The open-mouthed kiss lasted entirely too long, easy to be caught but subsequently not long enough. It was Hotsuma who pulled away first, panting to get air back into his body.

Shusei looked at him, repressing a loud laugh into a small chuckle. "Still haven't got the hang of breathing through your nose?"

Anger sparked from Hotsuma's smoldering irises. "You caught me by surprise, okay?" He tried to shake the blush from his cheeks without success, resulting in more aggravation. "I didn't expect _that_."

Reaching out, Shusei drew the boy close, wrapping him up in a tight hug. "I'm sorry," he murmured into Hotsuma's hair. "I-"

"A good surprise, okay? Don't be sorry," Hotsuma cut in, startling Shusei with the bite of his words. He returned the embrace fiercely, holding onto Shusei with the desperation of a life raft in a raging ocean.

"Not for that, but for before when I-" His regret was a bottomless hole. _Tell me it's okay. Tell me I didn't damage us beyond repair._

Hands ran over the length of his hair with a gentle touch, surprising given the source. "It's fine. It's fine now. Don't do things to be sorry about anymore."

They stayed together in the jaws of the wind for moments longer, Shusei looking out towards the dark escape of night, Hotsuma looking inward at the warmth of sanctuary. Shusei felt the comforting numb of forgiveness, and the blame he had been turning over in his mind vanished into nothing.

"No..."

Shusei heard the shade of Hotsuma's words, ears struggling to pick them up. Anything his friend chose to say was of pivotal importance. "What?"

"I'm holding you as tightly as I can, but it still doesn't feel... you aren't close enough," Hotsuma mumbled. Shusei could tell his face was flaming red and adorable, and he gently pulled back so that he could fall again into Hotsuma's emeralds.

He placed another kiss, keeping it delicate, sweet. He spoke against the hollow of his partner's cheek. "Better?"

After a short pause, Hotsuma began to laugh with crazy, reckless abandon, puzzling Shusei with the seemingly random outburst. Hotsuma was shaking his head, looking like he had just discovered something he had searched a long time for right under his nose. "Shit. This is nuts, isn't it?"

Shusei didn't get it. Cold began to invade his warm, comfortable space. "What do you mean, Hotsuma?"

"I mean, three days ago we were best friends, childhood friends. Now I can't think about anything except dragging you upstairs and spending all night in bed with you. That's insane, right? How can things change so fast?"

_All night in bed_ brought a slight pink to Shusei's face. He figured that those words held a different meaning than the other night they had spent _sleeping_ in his bed. But there was a question in the air, left hanging.

Shusei toyed with the thought of honesty. It was easier to hide, but for Hotsuma who found that nearly impossible, it wasn't fair. His feelings were always right there in the open. He owed him. "I don't know about you," he murmured, finding it hard to lift his eyes from the ground. It was easier to direct his words to the concrete. "For me, that's just how it is."

When he was able to look up again, he saw a strange expression on Hotsuma's face, a mixture of embarrassment, surprise and... lust? "Are you- you're saying that you- you really feel that way?"

As long as he was confessing, he could throw it all out there. Even though lying was easy, second nature, he didn't care. If Hotsuma thought it was silly or crazy, didn't matter. Nothing could break them. "When I picture the future, you're all I ever see. There's nothing else. I don't need anything else."

In the kaleidoscope of Hotsuma's emotions, embarrassment took precedence, coloring him crimson even in the pale light. "Come on, let's get inside, upstairs," he muttered, picking up his fallen bag and holding it weakly at his side. He walked past Shusei, reaching out with his free hand and encircling his wrist. He pulled him along into the mansion.

Shusei allowed himself to be tugged along like a doll on a string until he caught his balance and found the rhythm to begin walking alongside Hotsuma. Hotsuma's hand slid from his wrist to twine their fingers.

As they approached, Shusei felt a heavy atmosphere descend. Their room used to be a refuge, the place where they could relax after hectic battles, stressful days. The air was charged with uncertainty, an unknown fate waiting once they entered. When the curtain was pulled back, what would appear?

Hotsuma's hand was fire, his ice. The two melted and burned.

They entered their room and broke apart, Hotsuma closing the door behind them and flicking the lock. The sound crashed into Shusei's ears, nearly deafening. He felt trapped, but it was an exhilarating weakness.

"I noticed earlier," Hotsuma said conversationally, moving to sit on the edge of his bed after discarding his book bag by his desk in the corner. "You smell like soap."

"I had my bath." Shusei's mouth curved into a smile as he pondered the reaction his next words would draw. "With Tsukumo."

Hotsuma's eyes flashed, and he nearly leapt off the bed in a frenzy. "What the hell? Since when do you bathe with-" Seeing Shusei's unabashed joy at his outburst, Hotsuma cast a hot glare at him. "Tch. Lying again, huh? Like it's funny."

"I thought it was," Shusei said pleasantly, not caring to correct the error. He turned on his lamp and sat at his desk, shuffling through his papers. He arranged the homework he had finished after school and placed it in a folder with the rest of his study materials.

"I guess I'll go have mine, then," Hotsuma said at Shusei's back. He heard a smirk enter the voice, the tone low and suggestive. "With Yuki."

Jealousy flickered like a cruel demon, torturing him with images of Hotsuma and Yuki in the intimate scene, wet and bare. He couldn't say anything, didn't even want to turn around for fear of what his face would show. Hotsuma was just kidding, sure, probably.

The light cut off and he heard the door open and close, leaving him alone with his unwanted visions. He had to find something else to occupy his thoughts, but he didn't think there was anything. When he picked up a nearby book, flipping it to a marked page and trying to read, the words blurred and slipped off the page. He was lost.

Sighing, he knew that his concerns were illogical. Yuki was known for bathing early, so it was doubtful even if Hotsuma approached him, he would give in to the demand. Although Yuki's desire to make everyone happy could very well negate that fact.

_"I already took my bath, but if you really want to... yeah! Sure! Let's do it."_

Definitely possible.

Shusei was already dressed for bed, so he moved under the sheets and reached over, turning the lamp off. The darkness fell upon him, drawing his eyelids closed and trying to envelop him with the peace of sleep. He found the room chilly and pulled the sheets tighter. Unable to forget the flames.

_Please, burn only for me.  
_

Sleep began to steal him away, dragging him out of the world. He didn't hear his partner's return or see the lights come back on for an instant before shutting off once more, returning the dark. Didn't notice the dip in the mattress as the other body fell down, didn't feel the trail of fingers down the sheets, pressing them over his skin. It wasn't until the words came so close to his ear that he finally came back.

"Wait for me next time, like you promised."

Shusei's eyes opened and sought Hotsuma through the pitch, satisfied to see the outline of his damp, wild hair. His partner had leaned close, balancing on his arms on either side of him. One of those hands lifted to drift petal soft along the scattered strands of his brown hair. "Wait for you? For what?" Shusei murmured, feeling like it was a sin to fracture the serene silence of the night.

"To take your bath. To cut the lights. You don't have to hide."

Hotsuma's words meant everything, cutting the illusion down to its core. Shusei swallowed the thick nest of emotion choking his throat, forcing tranquility into his next words. "It's fine. I prefer the dark."

"I'd rather see you." Hotsuma came down fully, his body spread across Shusei's like a blanket of wildfire. Their faces were close, touching, Hotsuma's lips coming to rest on his cheek. "I always preferred your bed."

"I know," Shusei said with a smile. "I caught you sleeping here enough times to understand that much."

"I like it better when you're in it," Hotsuma whispered, searing incandescence with his low voice. Shusei barely had time to register the slow fire in his heart before Hotsuma's lips pressed again on his skin, his hands lifting at the hem of Shusei's shirt, pulling it up over his head. With Shusei's chest uncovered, his hands once again found the scars, fingertips grazing them with care. A warm breeze scattered pieces of gentle trust through Shusei's body.

_I'm in your hands._

Hotsuma's mouth returned to his scars as if drawn, his tongue following their lines as his hands drifted lower. Shusei stiffened, the world sharpened and focused into a single point. Hotsuma's words from before returned to him in a rush. _"Where the hell _are_ you touching?"_

"Is it okay, Shusei?" Hotsuma's voice was unsure as he pulled away, breath ragged, face ignited.

It was more than that, more than everything. His back had stiffened and arched towards Hotsuma, a reflex to get as close as humanly possible. It was still too far, hands sweeping out, grabbing hold of his partner's arms and pulling him up the length of his body. He buried his face in the side of that warm neck, inhaling the scent of smoking embers.

"Too much," he said softly, "I'm burning."

Hotsuma's beautiful moss eyes searched his face, but this time satisfaction shone in their depths when he found what he was looking for. The brash, welcoming smile filled the lips that Shusei now traced, fingers resting. The lips parted, drawing the tip of his index finger inside. Shusei's eyes widened slightly as Hotsuma's tongue slid down the length of his finger, a warm and wonderful sizzle of nerves.

It was only the slightest pressure, a little wet, but his ice reacted like a blowtorch had ignited. A moan slipped out, sound of desperation that captured and lifted Hotsuma's expression into a wide shock. He quickly recovered, hooded eyes, moving to the next finger, licking and trailing his tongue until it reached the palm, which he held in his and placed against the flat of his chest. Shusei could feel the blaze under Hotsuma's clothes, the sweltering heat of him. He pressed himself up and against his incendiary, tugging him down onto the mattress with him.

Hotsuma's face hovered, unsure. He had seemed so comfortable to take the lead, the new-found hesitancy was a bewitching temptation. Shusei smiled up at him, hopeless tease. "I'm all yours now. Why are you holding back?"

Hotsuma's eyes closed, and he smashed his face in the pillow next to Shusei's head. His body had come down upon his, a maddeningly comfortable weight. He could feel Hotsuma trembling, concern welling up. Was he not feeling as well as he appeared? "Hotsuma? Something wrong?"

"Nothing." Hotsuma's muffled voice was nonetheless clear. He turned, pressing insistent kisses on the soft of Shusei's neck, pathing up, joining their mouths. It was sweet, bitter. Hotsuma pulled at him, his hair, his neck, his shoulders, never stopped moving.

It just wasn't enough.

* * *

_Hotsuma..._

_from you I wanted everything._  
_You aren't close enough, I tell you_  
_Your head lulls on the pillow, your movements a dance_  
_It's hot_  
_You warm the coldest places_  
_My icy heart_  
_Beats only for you_  
_I'm content to burn in this fire forever._

_

* * *

_

Hotsuma stared at Shusei, eyes boring into his through the dark and the distance. His mind was still reeling, trying to catch up to everything that had happened from the moment he returned home. Everything was okay between them, wasn't it? It felt okay, better than okay, really, Shusei reacting in the ways he hoped it would, his face twisting to express his pleasure and desire. It was exactly what he wanted.

_Why is my heart about to burst?_

More- crying out, reaching, gripping with absolute desperation. He wanted that cold stoicism to come crashing to a halt, to break into tiny pieces and show him a glimpse of the real Shusei, the true Shusei, the hidden side of his partner he had yet to see. Peel it away. He was close, he could see that. The mask was starting to slip.

What else could he do? He couldn't think of anything, so he just did what he wanted, what the fascinating visage of his partner practically begged him to do.

_You're more than amazing, Shusei._

Hotsuma bent down, pressing a gentle kiss on Shusei's eyelids which fluttered closed as he neared. "I like your eyes."

Shusei sounded sleepy, simple response. "Mmm."

Hotsuma's mouth lowered, following the path of his words, soft, slow. "Your nose."

Shusei seemed to have already grasped the pattern, eyebrow raising in halfhearted amusement. "Yes."

Hands twisted in the brown locks. "Your hair."

"Hotsuma..."

He tasted clean, soap-scented skin, licking a trail down Shusei's abdomen, dipping into the small crevice in his center. "Your skin."

Shusei said nothing, inanimate like a heap of papers. He was betrayed by the slight tremble of his muscles, ripples that spoke of his repression. His hands lay at his side, useless.

Hotsuma lifted himself up on his arms, staring down at Shusei's face with flustered determination. If his words weren't sweet enough to melt some of the layers of ice, he wasn't sure what would. "And your smile."

Shusei's eyes were warm, mouth curving up into the gentle expression Hotsuma liked best. He hoped it was a reflex and not a conscious choice. He mumbled the final words. "I like you."

"I know." It was genuine, had to be. Hotsuma felt relief rush his concerns into oblivion as he enfolded his friend in a tight hug, rolling so that he was on his side on the mattress. He settled into a position comfortable enough for sleep, eyes falling closed. He didn't need Shusei's reciprocation in words. It was understood.

_I'm the only one. The only one who can see him like this, touch him like this. That's enough._

He wouldn't ask for much. "Will you be here when I wake up tomorrow?"

Shusei's voice was the serenade, the song that rang with all of their truths and promises. It lulled Hotsuma to the endless quiet, the space where the only mysteries were already solved. Where there were millions of one.

"I can be."

Smiling softly, the hold strengthened before loosening as hands explored. "You'd better be."

* * *

_Shusei..._

_I feel inside you_  
_Darkness unending._  
_The voice I cursed calls your name_  
_Over and over_  
_Unable to stop_  
_Your fingers press ice into my back_  
_I'm freezing_  
_I'll beg you not to leave_  
_And stay frozen with you until the end of the world._

_

* * *

_

_I am free, forever chained to you._


	4. Interlude

**Notes: **I wrote the first part of this scene while thinking of Chapter 3 of Chains. It seems to fit in the 'verse, and though there's lots of touching/physical interactions here, I don't think it warrants a change to M rating. Just be warned of some lime. And also warned that this is pretty pointless and angsty. I was messing with present tense, so it may come off weird and awkward (and I may have slipped up). Meh. Ignore it if it sucks. :D

* * *

**Interlude**

They still go their separate ways at bedtime, but there are nights that Hotsuma cannot help but crawl over to Shusei's bedside, tugging at the sheets drawn over his sleeping partner.

Shusei awakens quickly as though sensing his partner through the haze of his dreams. _Can't sleep, Hotsuma?_

Hotsuma kneels, wordless, code in his eyes. Shusei nods with understanding and pulls up the sheets, creating the opening for him to slip inside. Inviting.

Sometimes it is Shusei who starts the dance, delicate, icy fingers grazing him through his clothes, moving under to touch skin directly, sweetly burning like dry ice. Other times it is the other who trails kisses on Shusei's face and neck, unable to get enough of him. It would be impossible to say one was more attached than the other. The chains wound both ways.

_Chains can be broken, can't they?_

Shusei does not despair because Hotsuma is always there with a welcoming smile and an open embrace. His arms sanctuary, his rough kisses the blankets to keep the chill at bay. He piles them on, insistent and hot, lips finding the most sensitive spots on his body and drawing noises from his throat he had never believed himself capable of making.

Their skin touches and it's a tender fire, gently burning Shusei's cold walls and melting them against each other. Hotsuma reaches first for his hair, twisting his hands through the strands and bringing his face close. His breath is warm like the rest of him, scented mint. _Can I?_

Shusei responds with his usual answer, and it causes the usual reaction from his partner, the grip loosening on his hair and moving to his clothes. The loose shirt is lifted, pulled over Shusei's head, thrown like the useless trash it was onto the floor, then the rest. On Shusei's bed, Hotsuma towers like a giant, raging inferno, ceaseless, frightening and frail.

One touch, Shusei's hand to his face, brings him to his knees. He crawls forward, pressing insistently to get himself closer, bridging the gap. Shusei swallows his lust and keeps things light, his voice low in the still air._ Tell me what you want._

Hotsuma responds with his usual answer, and it causes the usual reaction from his partner, the hand on his face moving slowly down his body, drawing the clothes from Hotsuma and joining them on the floor with his own. They have been in bed together before without clothing between them, hands and lips traversing the planes of their bodies, yet they have not consummated. Shusei does not like to call it fear.

Time ceases its forward flow, pausing with every gentle trace of Hotsuma's fingers on Shusei's glowing skin. Nonsensical sweetness spills from Hotsuma's lips, the fervor of his new, timeless affection heating his emotions to boiling. He says them because he means them, and he means them because the pain is too intense to be false.

Hotsuma's words are thoughtless. He speaks of endless love, undying devotion, and other convenient lies. Shusei stays silent, because he is sure he would also say things to regret later. He hates promises and the uneasiness they grow inside his heart. He wants to be with Hotsuma forever, for the next million lifetimes, but he cannot make things so. He clings to the present moment when Hotsuma is entirely his and refuses to let go.

_Shusei, your hands._

They have slipped to his sides, resting on the mattress, and this brings agitation. Shusei lifts his hands and places them on Hotsuma's smooth, bare back, up and over, closing onto his shoulders and pulling. Their bodies connect, cool warmth, and Shusei can feel everything. Hotsuma can never control his desire, pressing hard against him. Shusei is no better, but something still prevents his surrender.

It is easier to whisper sweet words at a distance than to breathe them in his beloved's ear. Too close, Hotsuma might look straight through his fragile mask and see everything at once. He wants to throw it away, but that is prevented as well. Not by fear.

Echoes swirl through the room, wafting like delicate breezes through the windows and doors of their hearts. Slowly, one by one, each is being opened, nails pried with force, rusty locks broken like toys. Hotsuma is already everywhere, every gaze and breath stolen by his gems, with his sentimental lines. Shusei cannot help but listen, heart fluttering like hummingbird wings, wanting to believe everything is as spoken.

Ignited, Shusei takes control, flipping them over, straddling his partner and attacking him with kisses. Hotsuma trembling beneath him into shambles, noises resound that tighten everything inside Shusei's body. He falls into pieces on top of his partner, the fight nearly over.

Hotsuma senses the weakness gleefully, switching them back to their previous positions and taking Shusei's mouth with force. They kiss so deeply they share breath, becoming one physically as both wished to be emotionally. Shusei feels their heartbeats, erratic, off-key. His is naturally slower than Hotsuma's but it aches no less fiercely.

_Shusei._ Saliva leaks out of their messy kiss, and Hotsuma wipes it tenderly away, his hand remaining on the side of Shusei's face. His eyes sparkle with devotion, clear of the uncertainty and pain that usually dwell within. _I mean it._

Shusei forces a smile, pretends to be ignorant of the demons cloaked in shadow. _What are you talking about?_

Hotsuma places a kiss on the tip of Shusei's nose, rolling off of him and laying back on the mattress. The sheets tangle and cover nothing important, the graceful, sleek lines of his body the only temptation Shusei can barely resist. He wants to make it his completely, but there is doubt. Not fear.

His partner's words are thoughtless. His voice is magical. It changes the bitter to sugar. He has to believe this, holding his mask together with his hands as it tries so hard to crumble.

_I'll say it until you look like you believe it._

Only on some nights does darkness consume him. Other nights Hotsuma brings sunlight: unending, pure brightness to chase away the worry. He hopes his mask never slips to allow Hotsuma to know the difference.

Hotsuma's arm reaches out, pulls Shusei against his chest to the usual position, drawing the usual reaction from his partner. He relaxes into the steady rise and fall, closes his eyes and lets the fire burn them quietly.

His scars no longer ache when Hotsuma's fingers find them, adoring, reverent. A quick look at his face reassures Shusei, bringing the comfort that he sorely needs to fall into slumber. Even when rain and thunder race across the sky, although this particular night is quiet, Shusei cannot be taken from his refuge.

The face which has the ability to hold the agony of a thousand vicious stabs, gaping wounds that ooze liquid hate and endless tragedy, smiling. _Only for you._

Shusei stops thinking. He warms himself by the flickering fire and closes his eyes to peace.

Hotsuma knew that things weren't steady. He knew that no matter how sweetly he phrased his feelings, no matter how insistent his kisses, how rough or gentle his touches, sometimes nothing got through to his partner. He didn't know how to breach that seemingly unyielding barrier.

Yet he believed Shusei loved him as deeply as _he_ loved. He could fathom no less than the undying devotion of dozens of reincarnations, countless lives where all they had to get by was each other. It would always be more than enough.

They had both tried to destroy themselves, only in the current life. He wondered if that was why things were so hard- having to piece each other and themselves back together after shattering the carefully constructed castle so thoughtlessly.

_I promise you. I'll bring it back. I'll fix everything. Believe- believe in me, in us._

Hotsuma wanted to be sure, wanted to believe that every evening he spent in Shusei's bed, holding his partner tightly would end in the morning's light with Shusei still by his side, receptive to his gentle kiss.

He enjoyed watching Shusei sleep, face slipping into an unguarded expression of calm. It was always the sight that caused his heart to stop beating and start throbbing softly. Shusei could always leave him awestruck.

_I love this boy_.

A thousand ways yet unspoken.

* * *

Weeks passed before their first outing as a couple. They stayed in bed together every night, dancing and teasing under the sheets until Hotsuma thought he would lose his mind. He asked Shusei on a date through the darkness when they were falling towards sleep, and he thought he had dreamed Shusei's answer until the next morning, when he asked where Hotsuma wanted to go.

There was nothing special about the cafe where they ate dinner, typical overpriced fare in the Ginza shopping area, traditional rice and soup that tasted like candy every time Hotsuma looked across the table at Shusei. His partner had dressed up for the occasion, clothing slightly more formal than their school uniforms, a white, button-down shirt under a neatly pressed dinner jacket. With his brown hair mussed over his right eye, grazing the aristocratic angles of his cheeks and nose, he was stunning.

Hotsuma had kept things casual, opting for his usual red jacket tossed carelessly over an old, well-worn shirt (that at least had buttons) and his school tie. His jeans were tucked into the tops of his poorly laced boots, and he hadn't even thought to run a comb through his hair. He raked his fingers through the strands, hoping they weren't sticking out like crazy fireworks and knowing they were.

After the meal which Hotsuma had managed to awkwardly pay for, they strolled the busy streets, finding no escape from the hordes of people in Tokyo that Friday evening. Shusei suggested they hop on the subway and take it all the way to the second to last stop on one of the lesser-traveled lines. He called it an adventure.

When they exited the subway, they could breathe and move again without bumping into another throng of people. Of course, the scenery was drab, less frequented, independent shops and empty buildings greeting them around every corner. A quick glance at his watch showed Hotsuma it was getting late. Takashiro always wanted them back before midnight because he was a control freak, at least in Hotsuma's mind.

"Hey, I guess we should start go-" Hotsuma's suggestion was thwarted by Shusei's sudden grab of his arm, pulling the startled boy off the main sidewalk and into a cramped alleyway between the sets of buildings. It was barely wide enough for a bicycle to pass through and partially cloaked by a thick bush of purple flowers which tainted the air with bittersweet aroma.

Shusei's eyes glowed through the darkness. "Thank you for the meal." He leaned forward, joining their lips. Hotsuma's knees felt weak from the kiss which was far too short and shallow. When he tried to come forward to connect again, Shusei held him at bay, arm laying loose across his neck, pressing Hotsuma back into the brick wall.

Hotsuma struggled to no avail. He didn't want to get too rough and accidentally hurt Shusei. He glared into the smiling eyes of his tormentor. He could feel the grip of Shusei's free hand on his arm. "What the hell's up with this pathetic chokehold?"

Shusei's aura spread like darkness over the water, coating the nighttime with a hidden mist. He leaned closer, a hair's breath away from touching their lips together. Maddening. "Tell me what you want."

His head was spinning, the nearness of Shusei a dizzy trip that he didn't think he would ever become complacent with. He was too much light shining directly into Hotsuma's retinas, intense to the point of blinding. With the lack of sight came heightened sensations from his other senses: touch, smell, taste. Shusei's hand on his arm was too soft, too gentle.

"I want you."

"Can't hear you," Shusei said quietly, lying with impossible sincerity. He was so close, how could he not hear even with the hesitant hush of Hotsuma's words? He could feel his cheeks rushing with blood. He never felt as flustered in any other situation. It was always Shusei.

Shusei with his gorgeous face, fixated solely on him. _What do you see, Shusei? Why are you with me when you could have anyone, anything you'd ever want?_ He didn't like the doubt. Why was he always the one who was pressed to reveal his feelings? Shusei could remain hidden behind his mask of indifference. _He_ should have the same consideration.

Hotsuma's tongue darted out to wet his dry lips, coating them with moisture. His eyes couldn't stop roving the expanse of Shusei's face. Melting chocolate shot sticky, irresistible snares to capture his attention. He stared, helpless. Louder. "I want you, Shusei."

Shusei's lips had curved into the mischievous smile that shot slivers of excitement through Hotsuma's veins. He was electrically charged, waiting for the moment of contact that would bring him to a screaming climax before quieting into the blessed calm of everything that was right. _We belong together._

He loved it when Shusei grabbed the front of his jacket and bunched it in his hands, using the force to pull him up against his mouth. Shusei abused his lips for several breathless seconds of deep, intense kisses, sucking at his tongue with sweet pressure. Shusei drifted down like falling feathers, slick feel of his mouth leaving a hot trail on the line of his jaw to his neck. He stayed there, teasing soft skin at the base of his neck into a dark bruise. A temporary scar to mark like he was marked.

"Isn't enough," Shusei murmured against his skin, working to pull the jacket down Hotsuma's arms, trapping them behind his back in the cage of cloth. He ripped Hotsuma's tie apart, stretching it between his hands and smiling to himself as he laid it against his partner's lips. "Open."

Hotsuma wanted to protest, but the slow burn inside of him wanted more, wouldn't accept refusal. He allowed the tie to be slipped into the cavern of his mouth, straining to free his hands. Nothing was easy with Shusei's proximity inhibiting his movements. He was beginning to crumble under the weight of his desire.

"That's a good look on you," Shusei said with a smirk, working on the buttons of Hotsuma's shirt. He didn't have many to undo since Hotsuma preferred to wear buttoned shirts loose at the top, but he was working slowly. Clock hands were shifting, time becoming an excruciating burden.

"H-hurry, bastard." It was unintelligible through the cloth of his tie, a wasted mush of words. He might as well have just moaned. Shusei might have understood his frustration, then.

They were treading a slippery slope given the fact that they were out in public where anyone might be able to glance the wrong way and see them in the alley. It was different in the wind of the outdoors, the open skies, without the protection of sheets to hide. He was simmering in the fear that anyone could look sideways at that given point and see them in such a compromising position.

Hotsuma didn't really care, throbbing with need as he was, wanting to go as far as possible and then run even further. He wouldn't even blink if Shusei took his pride and thrashed it to death on the floor. If it meant the exquisite sensations would never have to end, he would fall to his knees and let Shusei have it any way he wanted.

Shusei took the end of the tie, traced it over Hotsuma's face in slow circles. He tried to tell Shusei with his hungry gaze that he was ready for more, that he needed more, but it seemed like his friend was purposefully ignoring his signals. Thankfully his hands were almost worked free, the jacket slipping down towards the ground.

Shusei's hand that was unattached to the tie finally agreed to _more_, slipping down Hotsuma's abdomen. It breached the unspoken barrier of Hotsuma's pants, dipping inside the front. The unexpected action shortened the air that was able to creep into Hotsuma's lungs, jamming his eyes closed as his hips thrust forward. First contact.

The tie was yanked out of his mouth, a shot of pain to interrupt the steady pleasure radiating from below. The cloth was replaced with warm, wet lips, Shusei's breath entering him, intertwining minty sweetness with the asphalt. Nothing could possibly surpass the delicious sugar of Shusei's mouth. It caused cavities that never stopped aching.

Hotsuma finally shook his arms free, jacket crumpling into a heap on the ground. He reached out and grasped Shusei, twisting thick cotton in his palms and jerking him nearer. His partner didn't seem pleased that he was no longer quite as helpless, increasing the urgency of his strokes. Hotsuma gasped against Shusei, entire body shuddering out of control.

_Where did he learn this? Well, I guess he's a guy so he would know..._ But he couldn't imagine his arrow straight partner ever doing something so indecent. He quickly passed the point of caring, gripping Shusei for support more than intimacy. "Shusei- stop. S-stop. I'm-"

Teeth nicked his neck, Shusei head bowing once more. He was everywhere, and everywhere burned bittersweet pain. "It's okay," he whispered against Hotsuma's flushed skin.

"I'll get you back-" Hotsuma growled through clenched teeth, hating how cool and composed Shusei was at the same moment he was falling apart. He opened his eyes into slits to glare at Shusei even as another wave of ecstasy tumbled his emotions into a mess. Anger, pleasure, need, want, the contradictions that defined their connection. _It's over with this. We can never go back to friends._

Like they ever could.

Shusei locked their lips as Hotsuma stumbled over the edge, swallowing his cry. He withdrew his hand and stopped all movement except for the slight press of his mouth. When he pulled back, he was smiling in a way that seemed to hide sadness behind a sheer curtain.

_Say something._

Hotsuma's face was bright, tomato-red. He felt sticky, somewhat disgusting, but a steady flow of deep satisfaction was helping keep him from screaming. It would have been easier in the dark, in the privacy of their room. But the fact that Shusei had been so bold as to do it in public had to mean something, something important.

_He's not ashamed. He doesn't regret being with me._

"Was that fun for ya?" Hotsuma asked with a leer, bending down to pick his jacket off the concrete. He shook it out, debris flying, before wrapping it around himself, protective barrier. He haphazardly worked his shirt closed, missing a few buttons and not caring to go back and fix them.

They had breached the second gate. As usual, the sudden unfamiliarity of the place they had been thrust choked the meaningful words from their lungs, leaving emptiness. Shusei's smile meant nothing.

"It is." Shusei's fingertips dragged through the sweat-slick strands of Hotsuma's wild hair, tracing cold over his scalp. It wasn't the hand that had engaged in the foreign activity, no, that one was hanging at Shusei's side limply. He flashed to serious so fast Hotsuma was almost blinded. "Because we're together."

Hotsuma lived for those heart-stealing words, the intermittent tenderness of his partner's real feelings. He couldn't help being weak. "Always, Shusei?"

Shusei smiles, but it is only stretching the mask. He wants to tell his partner the beautiful, reassuring words that he is always given freely, to hold him and let him know that there will never be anyone else or anything other than forever. He wants to stop thinking and start feeling

Because he knows that without Hotsuma, there is nothing.

He echoes and means it but still cannot fill the emptiness. "Always."

_You're the only one I need._

Someday the words will come.


	5. Built, Our Fortress

**Notes: **So I was all ready to never write Hotsuma and Shusei again (I need work on my original story ^^;), then Episode 12 comes along and pretty much bitch slaps me while screaming, "I DON'T THINK SO, YOU SLOBBERING FANGIRL". And then I came back to Chains chapter 5 and finished it and here it is in all of its incoherence. On a positive note, this story only has two or three more chapters to go until it's finally over (I'd love to start a new fic, maybe something lighter and cute, ahhh, fresh Hotshu...). Thanks to everyone who reviewed, fav'd, and alerted it. It keeps me going.

* * *

**Chains**

**5**

_The red won't wash away._

He scrubbed furiously, scraping his soft skin raw underneath the flowing tap. He had already used half of the soap bar, cleaned every last trace of blood from his pale hands, but the red remained, mocking blur. When he finally closed his eyes against the hateful color, he realized it was seared in his vision.

The color did nothing but remind him of the only thing he wished to forget in regards to his partner. _Your blood, my hands. Why? How did I fail the only thing I ever tried my hardest to do?_

"I tried. Tried to keep my word. Until the end, Hotsuma." Shusei didn't recognize his own voice, the sound staining harsh and ugly to the quiet. He believed he had seen the end of the universe in the final flickering flames, chaotic end of a timeline cut short by the cruel snip of fate. Takashiro lied so easily, so well. _"It's taken care of. It will be fine again, in the next lifetime."_

As for himself, back to useless. He couldn't stop trying to figure out how the flow of battle had been so rapidly descontructed, destroying the best laid plans effortlessly. To go from triumphant waves of fire and energy decimating the shadow's puppets and seeing the Opast's body crumbling into particles of darkness to having Hotsuma tumbling back into him, an unbelievably wide gash across his midsection pouring blood and gore onto the grass. The final death blow a suicidal victory.

It happened too fast, as cliche would have it, but it was true that he was unable to understand at first. It wasn't until he heard the blood-choked words struggle out of Hotsuma's mouth that he realized things had gone terribly, terribly wrong.

"Our place. Sh-shusei. Take me-"

Their place? He couldn't remember where that was for several moments too long, wasting the minutes of his partner's life lost in the recesses of his mind, trapped and helpless. His eyes must have held the desperation he felt, Hotsuma clouding with comprehension. "Hibiya..."

Shusei remembered, but it didn't help. Hotsuma was referring to the park near Ginza they had traversed in childhood together, covering nearly every inch of the grounds until deciding that a small, lesser traveled area in the midst of trees was the place they would spend their time. It was more secluded, far from the noise of the ampitheatre and the main paths the tourists and locals walked. However, to get to that place from their current location would mean dragging Hotsuma's rapidly fading body through a network of subway lines and then hoping the walk from the station wouldn't drain the last of the life left in him. That was impossible.

Shusei became acutely aware of his own deep breathing, the last attempts to keep a cool exterior through the burning, though it was much more intense than the fire Hotsuma had tried to incinerate himself with. He felt words come from his lips from some other voice, flat, unemotional. "We need to get you back to the mansion, where the doctor and Yuki can-"

"Too late, Shusei. No time." Hotsuma's voice was a phantom of itself, weak and strikingly frail. "I want- go there- last time. You. ...with you."

Tears rolled down Shusei's face, invisible but no less agonizing, pieces of soul raining rivulets. If he had to break down the walls of reality and force them into the shapes his partner commanded, it would have to be done. "Okay. I'll take you there, Hotsuma. Close your eyes, focus. Stay with me."

They had spent countless days, weeks, months, years of time in the park, their small area earmarked by trees bearing the kanji of their names. Hotsuma had taken a sharp rock and carved the kanji hastily into the bark when they first claimed the space, and later as a teen had deepened the marks with the blade of his pocket knife. "We might not come back here as much," he'd said rather offhandedly as he tucked the knife back into his jeans, "but it's still ours. Our memories, they continue to live here. Don't you think so?"

Shusei hadn't believed him but still believed _in_ him. "Yes."

However, despite the strength of his desire to give Hotsuma everything he ever wanted, he could not honor the last demand. If there was a choice between taking Hotsuma to the park, ensuring his certain death or bringing him home to Takashiro so that even if he _did_ die, he could still be reborn as a Zweilt, _as my partner_, he could never choose the former.

Hotsuma didn't open his eyes as Shusei carried him, finding the power of steel arms to handle the weight easily. He couldn't take the subway for fear of having someone stop to waste his time, thinking a hospital would be enough for Hotsuma. He walked and ran when he could, checking obsessively for the rise and fall of his partner's chest. It was slowing as the seconds ticked by.

Shusei drowned in Hotsuma's blood and his own sorrow, but he was too busy to breathe, anyway. Every moment was profuse with the dread of Hotsuma's death. The wound was too open, too mortal to be considered benign. Too much blood loss would kill anyone, even a Zweilt. Despite their super-human powers, they could die just as easily as anybody.

_Your life, as fragile and precious as the world. I wanted to protect it._

"Close yet?" Hotsuma's whisper pierced the background noise to static, the focal point of Shusei's attention now and always.

"A little further, Hotsuma." Maybe ten minutes away, hopefully enough time. Hotsuma was whiter than himself now, his eyes dark holes in the chalk. He might have already slipped beyond pain, features seeming relaxed for someone suffering such a grievous injury. Not a good sign. Shusei thought maybe keeping him distracted would help. "Shall I describe it to you?"

"Ye-" Hotsuma's noise seemed to be an affirmative.

Shusei recalled an image of the park as it had appeared to his innocence, sometimes awed by the sheer beauty of mother nature. "I can see the moonlight on the water of the first pond. It's silver, very nice, still and quiet."

"Can't hear-" Hotsuma murmured. Shusei saw his brows furrowing slightly and worried his eyes might pop open from curiosity. Well, not like Hotsuma would be able to fight him for the decision to take him back to the mansion rather than the park. Of course, it would be horrible for their last moments together to end in bitterness at the duplicity. He shifted the arm supporting Hotsuma's upper body so that his fingers could trace the side of his cheek.

"Don't look, don't listen. Don't hear anything other than me, Hotsuma. My voice, my heart. For you, they're- alive. Talking. Beating. Listen."

"Shu-"

"The trees are very still, but sometimes a breeze will blow by, and they tremble. It's very beautiful-" His voice tried hard to break, but he held it together with the last vestige of stability inside him. Everything came into focus sharply as he felt the pulse of Hotsuma's life in his hands. Why was he wasting words on pointless things? His feelings were the grace he wanted to shower upon his partner like hazy snow, the swell of emotions he'd built for all of the years of his life with Hotsuma. By now it was a pillar transcending the clouds, twisting layers of passion and worship he held inside like a secret treasure.

But he wasn't Hotsuma. He couldn't open everything with the ease of hands flipping open the pages of a book. Hotsuma could say his honest feelings without doubt or fear clouding his confessions, thoughtlessly bringing shine.

"Are we-? Can I look? I want-" More liquid coated Hotsuma's lips with dark, spilling down his chin to add to the blood covering Shusei's hands.

"Not yet, Hotsuma." _I'm strong enough to carry you. _"We're not there."

Hotsuma began to shiver, muscles losing the fluid that was meant to warm them. "I'm trying-Shusei."

"Just a bit more." _I love the life we made. _"We'll be there soon."

Shusei looked at the sky, endless stars beaming down like pinpricks they used to watch from the window seat in their room, unimpressive insignificance compared the the gold in his partner's eyes. The purest and most rare. _They'll never shine the same without you seeing them with me._

"More trees. Still on the path, it seems we're the only ones here this late," he said, grateful for the desertion in the streets that gave credence to his lies. He did feel guilty, but other emotions were more pressing for him to give it any more than a passing thought. "But I like it, being alone with you."

"Me- same- Shusei." _Keep saying my name with your honest voice, forever. _He placed the image of Hotsuma's quiet smile in the folds of his memory, another stone for the tower.

Unfortunately, his words ran out, but he was close enough to see the Twilight Mansion in the distance. They would make it, and the words dammed inside would have more chances to be spoken in the future. It was all he could ask for. _Hotsuma, you're my dearest memories. My life. My love._

My only.

But the blood on his hands had stained, and even though he tried to wash it away, he would never forget. Hotsuma had died in his arms, and that was the end.

Awakening to a dark room, Shusei felt his body jerking upright before he was fully conscious, the sudden movement bringing a wave of dizziness past his eyes. His struggle had disturbed the body next to him, and he felt Hotsuma stir. The dream stayed vivid in his eyes, crimson as the endless blood, painful as the sharp diamond edges of his choked emotions.

Shusei wasn't one for dreaming or at least remembering them if he _did _dream, so the nightmare lingered and caused more agony than it might have otherwise. His heart was throbbing in his chest like an incessant drum, the noise pounding his ears. He almost missed his partner's worried voice at his side. "Shusei? Something wrong?"

Turning, the sleep-rumpled face of his beloved was invaluable medicine, and he buried his face in the strong chest that was quickly becoming his last harbor. Hotsuma's arms circled his back, slightly hesitant, and he heard more concerns spill forth when the question went ignored. "Shusei? What is it? Did something- you dream something? Are you sick? What-?"

Shusei didn't feel like reliving the nightmare, as though having it spoken might transform it into a terrifying reality. "Nightmare," he murmured against the heat of Hotsuma's skin. "I've forgotten, but- let me stay here."

Hotsuma pulled at him, his hands coming to frame Shusei's face as he searched it with frantic eyes. "You don't remember? At all? Ah, you're- you're crying."

_Crying? Of course I'd cry... I thought I had lost you in this lifetime when everything finally makes sense._

"I don't remember," he said again, trying to make himself believe it. He didn't _want_ to remember, didn't want to think that his Hotsuma was anything other than invincible.

His partner seemed to accept the lie, but the worried eyes remained, even when he leaned down and pressed light kisses on Shusei's cheeks, his thumbs wiping the tears away. A strange smile stretched his lips that seemed almost out-of-place given the horror choking Shusei's mind, but Hotsuma had no idea, anyway. "I like this, being the one to take care of you. But hey, you sure you don't remember anything about it?"

Shusei tried to shove his anxiety into the corner of his concerns, but it wouldn't work. The memory of his hands, bloody through the soap and water, remained the focus. He was worried. It hadn't felt like a nightmare while he experienced it. It felt like an echo.

_The bitter finale of everything._

Seeing that his partner wasn't going to talk, Hotsuma leaned back and rested his head on his folded arms, staring up at the ceiling with half-closed eyes. "Man, you really woke me up quick. I was having a pretty cool dream, ya want to hear?"

Shusei wanted to hear Hotsuma's voice more than anything, the proof of his existence in that moment. _And forever._ "Yeah."

"Damn, now that I think about it, this is going to be embarrassing as hell." Hotsuma's left eye sprung wide open to peer sideways at Shusei with a critical gleam. "But I guess it's better to see you laughing than crying."

"You guess?" Shusei shot back, feeling some of his normal insolence return. _Hotsuma's here, I'm here. It was just some ridiculous, meaningless..._

"Well, I _did_ just say I liked taking care of you, didn't I?" Hotsuma's smile was soft, brimming with affection. Solace. "Anyway, we were at school during lunch, right? One of us dragged the other up to the roof, so we're standing there and the wind is blowing like crazy. You mentioned something about pajamas that made no sense, and suddenly we were both wearing them. So I started pointing and laughing at you because I didn't know I was in mine yet-"

"And this was a _cool_ dream?" Shusei asked with a raised eyebrow, skeptical. It sounded like Hotsuma's typical stream-of-consciousness nonsense. It worked its magic, the effortless highs and lows of Hotsuma's intonation, wearing the last edges of the painful dream to dust. Shusei threw himself into the present, standing at the edge of emerald grass fields that sparkled in the moonlight like prisms. Falling into them was always the sweetest surrender he could imagine.

"Tch." Hotsuma had expected that response, so he rolled his eyes and feigned annoyance, the smile giving him away. "Anyway, you pointed out that I was in mine, too, and we fought back and forth for awhile about who looked more ridiculous. Some irritating girl from your class showed up outta nowhere and started shrieking that you were better, and I told her to shut up because I'd picked 'em out for you, anyway. She got real pissed and-" Hotsuma cut off abruptly, looking like the surprised that the words had stopped coming from his mouth. "-and- we- holy crap, I just totally forgot the rest of it! Shit, I had it like two seconds ago!"

Shusei couldn't help but chuckle at his hapless partner, and Hotsuma's anger faded back into gentle relief. "Well, at least it's good for something, then."

Feeling self-conscious, Shusei placed his hand to his mouth and forced the mirth back. He was still afraid to show his unguarded expressions to Hotsuma, fearing the certainty that his need and passion were so much more consuming than Hotsuma's. He had placed Hotsuma on a pedestal so high, he despaired ever reaching it again. No matter how convincingly Hotsuma tried to convey Shusei's worth in his eyes, he couldn't believe it.

"Well, guess we need more sleep before it's time to go to school," Hotsuma said in a gruff, restrained voice. He moved his left hand from behind his head and held it out, straight arrow towards Shusei. "C'mere, then."

Shusei hesitated for dozens of unreasonable reasons before propping himself against Hotsuma, the arm coming down like thick steel to trap him against the heat. He relished the unbreakable cage of chains that kept him bound, lock and key, forever. He felt his lips moving, desperate to form the words piling softly and insistently like snow.

_Ever since we started this story, the first night I touched you, I-_

"No nightmares." Hotsuma's voice pierced the dark, straight to his center. Whether or not he was trying to use his voice to inflict his will upon Shusei knowingly or not, it was a command, an order that could not be refused. Shusei felt grateful for the power in those two words. "Only stupid, funny, or happy dreams allowed, got it? Preferably funny or stupid to make us even."

"Hotsuma," Shusei murmured, trying to find the strength. Why should it be so hard to tell Hotsuma everything? They were soul mates, weren't they? Hotsuma should already know, but he _didn't_. That was why he had to tell him. But how? What words? What melody? How many times to whisper, to say, to scream it? Simply or countless strings of flowery prose? It wouldn't be enough anyway, nothing in the world could possibly be.

So... nothing?

"Huh? What is it, Shusei?" Hotsuma sounded halfway to sleep already. Shusei's mouth twisted, instinctive sadness. _I'm not Hotsuma. I don't have them, the right things to say. Just the wrong._

"Nothing."

"Huh, okay. You know, you can tell me anything." Hotsuma shifted so that their fronts pressed together, faces close.

Shusei forced a smile, years of practice making it perfect. "I know that. But why talk when we could be doing other things with our mouths?" He leaned in and latched onto Hotsuma's bottom lip with his teeth, biting gently before releasing into a normal, deep kiss. His hands roved the expanse of Hotsuma's back, slipping under his thin shirt and delicately trailing along the ridges of his muscles. The touches distracted him as he had wanted, losing himself in the addicting hot his partner provided without fail.

"Idiot," Hotsuma breathed against his lips as he pulled back slightly, pushing his unruly bangs from between them. "I said _sleep_, didn't I?"

"I suppose you did," Shusei said with a playful smile. His partner's proximity was again the balm that assuaged his most stinging aches. He felt the heaviness lighten and some of his enslaved emotions flew into the air, spinning starlight around them.

Maybe they had turned the page and another chapter had begun, the endless volumes of their story continuing on and on. He had closed the tomes of the past because they were ultimately insignificant. The Hotsuma he loved was here and now, present moment, brilliant salvation in the midst of the desolate. He heard endlessly beautiful melodies in the soft rhythm of Hotsuma's bated breath, desperate to remember the twist of the notes in the wind so that he could sing their song long after the fight was over, beyond the edges of the furthest tomorrows.

"I've told you before, haven't I? You're all I think about."

Hotsuma seemed a bit surprised, blush coloring his cheeks even in the dark. Shusei realized he was doing it all wrong if that small amount of sweet caused his partner to waver. He moved his hands from underneath Hotsuma's shirt, latching onto him in a possessive grasp. "Maybe I will."

Grateful for the distraction, Hotsuma visibly relaxed. "You'll what?"

"Have pleasant dreams." Shusei kissed him again, forcing himself to keep it light even though he wanted to devour Hotsuma completely. Not just in that moment but in every moment. He wondered how long his self-control would last. He didn't particularly want to sleep again but for a thin ray of hope that his partner's wish be granted.

"I'm here," Hotsuma said, tucking Shusei's head under his chin and hiding his expression. Shusei didn't need to see to know that his partner was red in the face, looking embarrassed and heartrendingly sincere at the same time. He loved that contradiction like everything else that was so Hotsuma. "Even if you don't."

There was nothing for Shusei in sleep. Hotsuma was the dream come to life. He smiled against Hotsuma's throat. "I know. Good night, Hotsuma."

"Sweet dreams, Shusei."

No more nightmares that night.


	6. With Endless Chains::

**Notes:** I guess I promised chapter**s**, but I honestly felt like it ended here. Expect, let's see, corniness, angst, and of course an unsatisfying ending. Muahaha. Haha. Ha

(I need sleep)

* * *

**Chains**

**6**

Hotsuma died every night in his dreams, sometimes painful, always tragic, an unnecessary end brought about by Shusei's own carelessness and lack of strength. _If only I..._ the sentence could be finished with any number of words, but it boiled down the the simple fact that it was always his fault.

Shusei began to avoid sleeping, the lack of adequate rest evident in the heavy lay of his eyelids, the dark circles, the grey pallor of his skin. The affliction was not lost on his partner, but Hotsuma's warm, constant concern could do nothing to stop the nightmares. Perhaps if he vocalized the problem, they could have thought of a solution, but it was just another check mark on the list of things Shusei refused to say. His own private hell- he could deal with that agony if it meant saving Hotsuma. _As long as I never say it, never speak it, it can't possibly be real. _Yet maybe he was just fooling himself by thinking that, too.

The thought of losing Hotsuma was a nightmare in itself. If the chains binding them so tightly together began to loosen or show any hint of weakening, Shusei feared he might lose his sanity. He had never anticipated such consequences when they began their official relationship, so he was at a loss as to what he could do to stop the slippery slide down the mountain they had crested.

He began to dread the times they were called upon to fend off another Duras attack, throwing everything he had into the battles and surprising almost everyone with his ferocity and precision. Every move perfectly calculated; he allowed himself no room for mistakes. It was always something so very small in his dreams, deemed insignificant at the time, which ended up costing him everything. He forced his tired mind to consider every possible outcome and decide the most probable course for victory. He then seared the synapses of his brain to the specific pattern that would command his muscles to the right movements at the right times. Even when he nearly blacked out from the exertion, began to hyperventilate and see stars dancing in front of his eyes, he whirled a dance of death with his blades and energy orbs.

Another battle won, but the war? Still no end in sight.

"You're pushing yourself too hard," Hotsuma mentioned with concern after a daunting battle against a high-level Opast. They had only managed victory with assistance from Luka, who had finished off the Opast after it finally became weak enough from Hotsuma's fiery attacks and Shusei's rain of light swords. By that point, Shusei was nearly to his knees on the ground, lacking the energy to even lift his blade from the floor where it had been flung.

Shusei smiled weakly at his friend as they trudged down the sidewalk towards the subway station. Takashiro hadn't bothered to lend the car. The attack had been unexpected since they had merely been ordered to do a quick sweep of the area to search for clues regarding a new vicious murder case. Shusei had almost gone alone until Hotsuma's ceaseless insistence to tag along had won out. Keeping Hotsuma in a tight cage might have worked to stem the fear, but it was also completely unfair. Hotsuma, perhaps more than anyone else, deserved the right to burn free.

Not sure what to say in response to Hotsuma's worried statement, Shusei instead focused on the tall Opast who was tailing them. His brow wrinkled when he realized how strange it was for Luka to remain by their side. He directed a comment behind, keeping his eyes forward. "Is there something that you need, Luka?"

"Not really," Luka replied with his usual blank stoicism, the quiet force in his aura spreading out like invisible wings to enfold them. It was easy to feel completely protected as long as he was nearby like a dark guardian angel, silver eyes that saw every possible threat and eliminated them before they could strike. Yuki was lucky to have such a reliable sentinel, and the comparison between himself and Luka was so unfavorable it rose bitterness in his throat.

Shusei almost wished Hotsuma wasn't there so that he could ask Luka if he also suffered with the fear of losing Yuki, of being unable to protect his beloved in a pivotal moment that could topple the entire house of cards in a single sweeping blow. If even Luka composed of unyielding stone and limitless wells of power could feel such unease, then maybe it was okay. Maybe he could finally tell Hotsuma of his fears and they could work through them.

Silly thought. He couldn't even simply tell Hotsuma how much he loved and needed him. He still had to hide behind those thick veils, petty sentiments and half-truths the only glimpses he could ever reveal. Everything was stupidly choked, and at its heart, the cause was just fear. Shusei was not as strong as others thought, as perfect and poised and calm as he outwardly seemed. The illusion was as ancient as his skeleton grin, and he had no idea how to live without.

"If you _don't_ need anything then why the hell are you following behind us like some kind of creepy stalker?" Hotsuma asked, his brow creasing and frustration lighting his face as always when he was presented with an unwanted situation. Though in battles Luka and Hotsuma had managed to strike a delicate balance of their offensive powers to best overcome the enemy, Hotsuma still seemed to take slight at his proximity outside of fighting the enemy. "It's over now, so go fly off on your broomstick or whatever the hell you do."

"Yuki told me to watch Shusei," Luka stated calmly, catching the surprised glance Shusei threw backwards and holding his eyes with limited emotion flickering his silver depths. It wasn't sympathy or pity, but perhaps a shred of curiosity, maybe even concern. "He knows he hasn't been well."

Hotsuma joined in the discussion now that they had a common interest established. "Yeah, really, Shusei. I know something is wrong. You haven't been normal lately. I mean, you never eat and I've given up on _that_, but this 'no sleep' thing is new. So what is it?"

Shusei grew tired of the concern hammering him from all sides. Hotsuma was enough, but to have _Luka_ of all people joining in... he didn't know how to brush them off while remaining politely pleasant like usual. He didn't want to lie to Hotsuma, and he thought that Luka might somehow see through any platitudes he attempted. He kept it simple. He would repeat it as much as he had to. "I'm fine. Just tired."

"Good, then that means you'll sleep tonight, right?" Hotsuma said with a wash of relief coloring his tan skin deeper. Shusei nodded slightly to ease his concern further, and Hotsuma stopped focusing on him to glare back at Luka. "You heard it, didn't ya? He's fine, now get lost."

Luka looked back like an unchanging statue, and Hotsuma seemed to realize it was hopeless. Yuki's command was Luka's gospel. Shusei let the bite of his partner's words and Luka's emotionless responses slip past his ears all the way home.

He was going to need more caffeine.

* * *

Hotsuma wasn't stupid. He knew that Shusei was barely sleeping, lying awake in his arms on even the darkest nights, body tense and restless. He tried everything he could think of to get Shusei to rest, trying to tire him out with hours of physical affection (not that he needed an excuse to want to do that), taking him on long walks and hot baths right before bedtime. Nothing was working.

It killed him to see Shusei wasting slowly away.

Shusei moved through the hallways at school like a ghoul, practiced smile on his face to deflect his classmates' worried inquiries. Hotsuma saw through the illusion, always, feeling a growing anger. What could be so horrible that Shusei wouldn't even tell _him_?

He knew it was bad when Yoshino fell in step with him in the hallway, hair shading her face and quiet nervousness as she spoke softly, "Usui-kun isn't looking well, is he?"

Hotsuma glanced down at her with slight surprise which stemmed both from her perception and the fact that she had summoned the courage to come up to him outside of class. She usually kept her distance, smart girl. "You noticed, too, ah?"

"Hard not to," Yoshino said with a sad smile, her lashes falling downward as she stared at their shoes. "It's affecting you, too. I- I saw that first. I wish I... that I could see you happy again."

Hotsuma raised an eyebrow, fixing her with an incredulous stare. "When the hell have I ever been happy in this death trap? This school is like a slow torture that never ends."

"I think... you're happy wherever Usui-kun is. But not when he's-" Yoshino cut off, looking puzzled for a moment before lifting her gaze and meeting Hotsuma's eyes with sparkling determination. "You have to talk to him about it!"

"Huh?" He was surprised by her outburst but felt surprisingly warm with her obvious concern. She was the first person who ever tried to get close to him despite his spines and endless walls, so he had to give her credit for that. He noted that she was maybe the only one he could consider a friend outside of the Twilight Mansion.

_Who knows? Maybe it wouldn't have been so painful if you, if I..._

There was nothing in entertaining such possibilities.

"I'm a girl, Renjou-kun, so I know these things, right?" Yoshino said with pink cheeks, smiling like a gentle mother, a caring sister, a dozen platonic titles. "Talk! Force it out of him. He can't heal if he keeps it inside. I really, really believe you can fix anything."

It wasn't Hotsuma's intention to lead her on or give her any reason to think that anything could ever come out of her crush, but he didn't think his gratitude could be expressed with his inadequate words. She really was special. He reached out and ruffled her hair, a bit too roughly, but he wasn't used to handling girls. "Thanks."

Her eyes widened, and he knew he had made her heart race like galloping horses, the same vibration Shusei was able to give him with ease. He took off for Shusei's class, hoping to intercept him before he could settle into his desk and wait for the next pointless lecture to begin.

_Shusei, I might make you tardy again_. Their secret moment in the upstairs office seemed like an archaic memory, completely lost in the folds of time. There had been too many unexpected twists and turns to ever go back to that place.

Only forward.

He spotted his partner disappearing around the corner and hurried, catching his sleeve in his fingers and pulling him back. Shusei tumbled against him, and he caught him easily. He struggled to disengage from Hotsuma's strong grip. "Hotsuma? This isn't really the best time to-"

"It is," Hotsuma replied shortly, unwilling to listen to any protests. He had to do what Yoshino had said- it was the only way they would begin to bridge the gap. Only with Shusei's injuries exposed could Hotsuma apply his love and adoration to them like healing salve. "I can't let it rest anymore. You _have_ to tell me what's bothering you, and I won't take '_nothing_' for an answer."

Shusei's annoyed look was caked with weariness, but the frailty contained in his face would not deter Hotsuma. He had to make it right. He had to see Shusei's true smile or he would go insane with worry. "Shusei!" It was a hiss of desperation.

Shusei remained infuriatingly stone. "I won't do this here."

"You won't do what? Tell me the goddamn truth? How hard can it be? Dammit, Shusei, I am sick of this bullshit-"

Shusei wrenched free and caught himself when the force of Hotsuma's grip sent him reeling. "I'll be late, and so will you. Just get to class and leave it alone."

"Screw that crap, it doesn't matter at all! What matters is that you-"

Shusei had already turned his back and was walking away. Hotsuma had to close his mouth because he knew his next words would burn the entire school to ashes.

He stared at the empty space _his_ Shusei had been standing long after the bell signaled the start of the next class, and even through the agony of his defeat, he could discern the flames of determination that raged at hot as ever. He would throw that brimstone at Shusei whether he wanted it or not, sear them both with heat and light until their wounds could no longer ache.

_Tonight, I swear, I'll break those chains._

_

* * *

_Shusei was finishing his homework when Hotsuma slammed his way into the room, looking frazzled and upset. He guessed that while Hotsuma had been at school, delayed by tutoring, the earlier confrontation had been festering. He could plainly see the gaping trauma in the tortured lines of Hotsuma's expression. He had only meant to have a quick glance up from his papers, but it lingered and their eyes met.

Shusei understood Hotsuma's look, and he could feel the impending explosion. It would be a slow, controlled eruption, but it would still spew enough fire to char every shroud, bringing facts to light that Shusei had every intention of hiding until the grave. There was no stopping it.

The humor was missing from Hotsuma's voice, all undercurrents nightshade. Shusei didn't have to spare another glance again to know that his face matched the serious tone. "Put the pencil down. It's time for our talk."

Sighing, Shusei knew he should have sensed it coming. Hotsuma could only feign ignorance up to a point, and Shusei's eyes had held the dark circles for too long, the smiles stretching his lips too thin to maintain the illusion of genuine mirth. He allowed the pencil to fall from his fingers as he turned slowly in his chair, facing his accuser with as much strength as he could muster. "Fine, if it's that important. What is it?"

Hotsuma was seated on the very edge of the bed, his elbows digging into his knees so that he could rest his chin against his upturned palms. His hair fell forward like jagged curtains, shadowing his face and making his expression more fierce. His eyes were already flashing with troubling sparks of agitation. Shusei felt unsure almost instantly. He hadn't really expected anything so intense. Something had turned the cogs too far, strayed fate too noticeably from its natural course.

A small breath escaped Hotsuma's lips before the words came, tumbling out in a thoughtless spill of pent up anxiety. "I said it before. We both know you haven't been sleeping. Every time I ask, you just brush it off. So I wonder- is it me? Is there something I've done- not done? I mean, I try to think of what it could possibly be, but there's nothing that I... I didn't forget your birthday, did I? No, that's in January, so that can't be it. So tell me, please, Shusei. What did I do?"

Shusei's heart cracked a little when he saw the hint of helpless desperation on his friend's face and the absolute desolation contained in his string of confused words. How horrible for Hotsuma to think it was even partially his fault that Shusei had become something of a mess of human wreckage. He was nothing less than the perfect boyfriend, really, completely devoted, caring, attentive. Blood soaked the edges of Shusei's vision as the weight of despair's ocean crashed around him. "Nothing," was all he could manage, a useless word to be crushed with the gravity of the trouble engulfing them.

Hotsuma didn't believe him, and that was to be expected since Shusei wasn't even sure if he was lying or not. Technically, it was the fact that Hotsuma was mortal and _would_ someday die that had caused the phobia, but he really couldn't be blamed for that. Men were not meant for eternity, even if their emotions felt as though they should be.

The ache in Hotsuma's eyes echoed through every cell in Shusei's body, and his next words made his heart fissure more deeply into shards. "Shusei, why are we together?"

Shusei had to struggle for a response to the unexpected question, riding the waves of discomfort that coursed his veins. "What do- why are you asking this?"

"Because I don't know the answer."

His fears came to fruition with Hotsuma's admission. His meager attempts to placate Hotsuma's growing need had failed, and he was left oblivious to the encompassing weight of Shusei's affection. He scrambled to try and mend things, laying the tape thick and holding tight the vain placebo. "I thought it was obvious, Hotsuma. I-"

His throat tightened, but it wasn't due to emotion swelling up through his chest. It was the word, the sentiment that gave him pause as he fought meaningless second and third thoughts. _Do I really want this out there? Why shouldn't it be? How many dozen times has Hotsuma said it and meant it? I don't have to fear rejection, or anything else._

And of course it was the truth.

"-I care about you." He finished pathetically, and they both knew it.

Hotsuma refused to drop it. "You also care about homework and grades and that stupid archery club you're taking after school. So what?"

Anger began to weave back and forth dangerously, brought about by Hotsuma's childish comparison. Just because he wouldn't say that one word, as though it even mattered at all, really- "Why are you being so particular? Why do I have to explain like you're a child?"

"Because I asked you to!" Hotsuma lost his casual position seated on the bed, jumped to his feet with ignited sparks transforming grass fields to raging infernos. "Isn't that enough? For me, it's all out there. I love you with every fiber of my damn being. You know that, Shusei! All I know is that you _claim_ I'm all you think about and you like to be all physical all the time like some damn pervert. I mean, is that it? You just like my body, or-?"

Hotsuma's incorrect assumptions about Shusei's feelings and motives triggered his own fire, bringing the temperature up slow but high. He looked across his bed at his partner, getting to his feet from the desk chair so that they could be level. "You're completely off base here, Hotsuma. You- it's the same for me, as you feel. How can you not understand that?"

Months of frustration reached their maximum and gushed acidic with Hotsuma's cry. God's voice was nearly unrecognizable with anguish coating it thick and total. "_You never tell me_!"

The tirade continued before Shusei could recover from the shock of that painful blow. "You barely eat, you don't sleep, you never talk about anything that's bothering you no matter how much I beg. Look, if that's the kind of relationship this is, it ends now."

Shusei suffered a moment of derealization as the walls of reality caved in and left him suspended in a realm of hallucination. Huh. For a moment there, he thought Hotsuma had said something about breaking up. "What?" Someone else spoke the word from his lips in his voice. How strange.

Hotsuma was completely serious, eyebrows drawn low over his eyes. "You're my best friend, Shusei, and that's not changing. Ever. But if I'm going to chain my soul to you and have my happiness depend on yours, you have to meet me halfway on this. Otherwise, this is all just useless pain."

Shusei didn't feel his breaths shortening to the point of smother, the agony inside his chest so acute that it felt like an actual heart attack. If he had been thinking with his usual rationality, he would have understood that he was suffering the onset of a panic attack, but captured in the moment, he could only watch stars dancing in front of his eyes, breaking Hotsuma's face into shimmers.

It wasn't Hotsuma's death that brought the final reaction. It was much worse, that willful separation for ridiculous reasons, the blame entirely his. Hotsuma alive yet away from him by choice, nothing could compare. The blackest nightmare was reality.

Hotsuma noticed his physical disturbance, turning away from his own angst to target Shusei. He spoke his name once, softly and with purpose.

Shusei managed to gag sounds out of his mouth that gave life to some of his feelings, the barest graze. "I feel like... can't breathe." He must have looked pathetic, hands clawing at his neck to try and help air through. His heart was quietly aching rotten in his chest.

Hotsuma crawled over the bed so that he could reach Shusei's side in the shortest time possible, drawing him into the circle of his arms while cursing himself. "I'm here, Shusei. I'm sorry, I-"

"Can't breathe when- without you. I can't-" Hotsuma's breath was warm and heavy against the side of his face, a comfort he could not imagine being without ever again. The threat of losing it finally threw his damnable mask against the wall and shattered its mocking facade, leaving him completely exposed. He was naked, ashamed and worthless, but Hotsuma made it tolerable.

_I'll breathe for you._

"I'll always be here, Shusei. Just ignore my- you know, ignore me when I get stupid like this. You know I can be an idiot..." Hotsuma's hands were weaving sentimental patterns along the back of his neck, curling his hair around his fingers like gossamer ribbons. "Are... are you okay now?"

Shusei could breathe again without feeling like his heart was exploding, so he assumed he had recovered from whatever had happened. Nodding, he began the revelation. "It hurts, to think of you leaving, of you dying and leaving me alone." It was somewhat easy now to finally say everything to the point where he wondered how it could have ever seemed impossible.

"Why would I leave?" Hotsuma was completely bewildered, hands freezing atop his back. Shusei saw the new turmoil and guilt flared with the realization that he was the cause. "Why would I die? Where are you getting these crazy thoughts?"

Sighing, Shusei spilled everything. "Dreams."

Weeks of deception came to the surface, the nightly visions of Hotsuma's gruesome death, his callous hand in every end of his partner's life. Hotsuma flickered the entire spectrum of emotions from anger to sorrow as Shusei recounted the trauma he'd suffered alone for far too long. When he was finished, he asked for Hotsuma's thoughts almost shyly.

He waited patiently for an answer.

* * *

Hotsuma didn't know whether to smack Shusei with the full force of his fist or smother him with kisses until they couldn't remember how to breathe without each other. He picked neither extreme, choosing his words carefully to let Shusei know he wasn't completely pissed off. He knew it was a delicate perch they had landed on, and he wanted to bring them down safely.

"First off, just know that I'm totally going to get back at you for keeping all of this crap from me. You won't expect it, either. But more importantly..." Hotsuma pressed Shusei down onto his bed, following once Shusei was seated. He kept his partner close but maintained distance between them so that the intensity of his stare could be appreciated. He knew he was shooting sparks. "Stop."

Shusei hadn't expected Hotsuma's reaction, the confusion and curiosity in his eyes giving him away. Hotsuma didn't wait for a response before continuing. "You think I'm going to die now, when we've finally reached this point in our relationship where I can hold you and kiss you and be with you as much as I want? You think _I'll _break in battle like some kind of child's toy while you walk off scot-free? Who do you think you're kidding with this? That's not a nightmare, that's a ridiculous fairytale!"

"Hotsuma." Shusei looked guilty, bewildered, touched, frightened, sated, a million things at once. Hotsuma watched his favorite show play across Shusei's face for several beats before leaning in and taking his lips with force, infusing his lips with the fire that had burned in his eyes. They fell back onto the bed, Hotsuma covering Shusei's body with his own, his hands slipping under Shusei's light sweater to caress the skin that had destroyed the joy in touching anything else.

"You'll never be rid of me," Hotsuma murmured against Shusei's mouth in a parting that was several seconds of agony, yet he knew the words had to be said. He never wanted his partner to dream anything other than sweet, because he had brought that to life for _him_.

"I don't want to be," Shusei answered, arms circling around Hotsuma.

"Tch, like you have a choice," Hotsuma scoffed, kissing him again, again and again. He felt thrilled with the intensity of Shusei's response, the tightening of his arms around him, the shift of his hips that grinded their lower bodies together like sand and stone, soft and hard. Hotsuma's hands held fast to Shusei's hollow cheeks, fingers tracing the edges of their joined lips, up to the lashes that fell so tightly closed.

_You're my treasure._

Hotsuma broke apart with a light parting kiss, pulling back and shifting so that he could lay beside Shusei, propping his head up with his hand. "I still didn't get it, you know, what I wanted to hear."

Shusei raised an eyebrow, usual humor returning to light his brown irises. The entire room seemed to lighten with his friend's mood. "Oh? And what was that, exactly?"

Hotsuma kept a poker face, pretending that it didn't matter when it was everything. "Your feelings."

He didn't expect anything in response, maybe a flippant comment like usual. That was why he nearly got whiplash from the sudden murmur of his partner's voice, low but unmistakable and devoid of the usual dance of teasing. Shusei's hands clenched into the skin of his back but remained a blessed cage. "I love you, Renjou Hotsuma."

The blush that crept up his cheeks was hot red and kept rising into his ears. He was speechless for several moments, lost in the thick beating of his heart and the beauty of Shusei's confession. His partner never needed to say those words again for Hotsuma to hear them whenever he wished, looping endlessly on repeat if he so desired.

He smiled, and it never stopped.

Later that same night, Hotsuma took Shusei for the first time. They argued about it first because it was male pride on the line, but Hotsuma won the battle after pointing out that it was Shusei's fault they almost fell apart. It was cute that Shusei admitted his nervousness, not that he was worried about the pain but that the mere thought of their bodies joined together might make it so that he could never again be without him.

Hotsuma smiled while tracing his hands over Shusei's bare back, touch feather light and careful, closing his eyes to the erratic beating of his heart. Part of him always, always wanted to take Shusei with all of the throbbing passion in his soul, tear him down and completely own him, disregarding all manner of poise and dignity. Yet he knew that this first time had to be perfect. Every action had to pulse with the affection he carried for Shusei alone.

He had an answer to Shusei's concern that was simple and true, cleanly erasing all doubt that had ever clouded the light. The chains of uncertainty lay on the ground, discarded, quickly lost beneath the slow, steady drops of love and enchantment the two found in each other, piling like autumn's leaves in multifaceted colors. When summer's breeze drifted through the open window, rustled the curtains and sheets drawn around the two as they slept, the leaves were swirled up and away.

The ground was bare beneath.

_"Then I'll stay. Forever."_


End file.
